


Dead But Still Here

by sbdrag



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Empath, Minotaur - Freeform, Monster Hunters, Multi, Shade, Vampires, Werewolves, dragon - Freeform, fae, naiad, werejackal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbdrag/pseuds/sbdrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Jensen has just lost the woman he thought was going to be his mate... two years ago. In accordance with the Laws, he has to begin searching for a new mate. </p><p>And so his sire, David Sarif, sends him out with his platonic mate, Faridah Malik, to begin looking again. Along the way they run into a new hunter, a man name Pritchard. Adam is convinced the man is hiding something, and won't stop until he figures out what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The room smells like her. He sighed, turning in his bed. He’d thought she’d be the one. He really had. He could see her in his mind’s eye, remembered her smile. The way she smiled with her eyes more than her mouth. It’s been two years, and he’s still stuck on her. 

There’s a knock at his door. It’s faint, but easy for him to pick out with his enhanced hearing. With a sigh, he forces himself out of bed. There’s a picture of her on the nightstand. He stares at it a moment.

Megan Reed. Brilliant witch. Leading researcher on vampires. He’d thought she was his mate. But that was before. He put the picture face down. He pulled on a loose pair of pants, and jogs through his manor to the front door. He knows the scent a moment before he opens it. Cold earth, saffron and chives tanged with blood.

“Boss,” he said, letting his sire in the room. David Sarif was an old vampire. He was turned older, hair graying at the temples. He scented the room as he walked in, then turned, smiling thinly.

“Adam, son, when was the last time you left the house?” he asked. Adam sighed. He knew this would happen eventually, but he had hoped for more time. He walked away, to the kitchen, Sarif trailing behind.

“Two years,” he said, opening the fridge and pulling out a blood packet. Fresh blood was fantastic, but Adam hadn’t had his heart in the hunt since Megan left. Besides, having packets delivered was less conspicuous. Sarif leaned against the counter as Adam poured the blood into a mug, and puts it in the microwave.

“Adam, this is insane,” his sire said, and Adam knew he was right. They hadn’t even mated. He had been going to ask the question when… it happened. But Adam didn’t feel like being logical.

“You took your time when Athene passed,” he said. It was a low blow. Athene had been Sarif’s mate for some fifty years or so. It was true there mateship had been platonic, as was his current partner, but vampire mates were a special bond of trust. They guarded vampires in their resting hours, provided them with regular blood, and, most importantly, kept them in touch with reality. Eternity was a long time to go alone.

“Yes, I did,” Sarif said, softly. Adam felt sorry for the comment, but didn’t apologize. He just took out his hot blood and drank. It was too hot, scolding his tongue, but then his healing kicked in and it didn’t matter. “But I’m older than you are, and we were mated.”

“I’m fine, Boss,” Adam said. 

“No, you aren’t,” Sarif replied, and Adam looked at him, hard. 

“... Darrow sent you,” he said. Sarif sighed. Darrow was Sarif’s sire, and founder of their coven. He was responsible for all the members of the coven; making sure they followed the Laws and didn’t push themselves into insanity. Which would explain Sarif’s visit.

“Yes, he did,” Sarif replied, standing and holding out his arms. “But I’m worried about you myself. I know what happened with Megan was… difficult. But you need a mate, Adam.”

“I don’t want a mate,” Adam said. Sarif was instantly a hair’s breadth away, knocking the mug of blood out of Adam’s hand and to the floor. His eyes glowed golden, the color of the Darrow clan. He poked Adam in the chest, expression grave.

“Don’t say things like that! You know the Laws, Adam,” he said. Adam glared back, then sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. He did know the Laws. Don’t kill humans. Don’t let humans know we exist if at all possible. Don’t endanger your fellow preternaturals. Don’t reveal more of yourself than necessary. And then, specifically for vampires. Find a mate as soon as possible.

“I know,” he said. Sarif backed off, leaning against the counter again. 

“Listen, son, I know things are… hard, but you can’t just lock yourself up in here. It isn’t healthy,” he said. Adam met his gaze again. As far as sires went, Sarif was lenient, relaxed, even. Sarif wasn’t even allowed to look his sire in the eye. If Darrow had heard Adam, he would probably have lost a limb for it. And those took time to regrow. 

“What do you suggest, then?” Adam asked. He hated the way he felt lost without her. He’d had mates before her, but they had been platonic partnerships. It felt too strange, like her absence was a physical thing inside of him. It made it hard to function, to go on the way he had before. Sarif smiled softly, like he knew what Adam wouldn’t say.

“Why don’t you go out with Faridah tonight? You two never really got to meet,” he said. Faridah Malik. David’s new mate. A werewolf. They’d met at Sarif’s mating ceremony, but hadn’t spoken since. What Adam had seen of her made him wonder why his sire had chosen her as a mate. Compared to Athene she was so… different. Before Megan, his mates had followed the same general pattern. Quiet, artistic types. People who could keep themselves entertained and didn’t crowd him. 

Adam was startled out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his sire. Sarif raised his brows at him. Adam sighed.

“Alright,” he said. His sire smiled, clapping him on the shoulder affectionately and stepping back.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect any miracles tonight, I just want you to get out there again,” he said. “It’s important that you at least try, son.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Adam replied. Sairf sighed, scratching the back of his head. “But… I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” his sire said, smiling. If it hadn’t been for Sarif, he would have died centuries ago. In a way, it could have been a blessing. But at the time, he’d had something important he’d needed to finish before he died. And he was grateful to Sarif for giving him that chance. So he would try. Or at least pretend to.

“Then get ready; I’ll send her by in an hour to get you,” Sarif said, turning to leave. Adam watched him go with a mix of resignation and dread. When he heard the door shut he sighed. He looked at the shattered cup and blood spilled on the floor. He bent down, collecting the pieces. 

He’d always enjoy prowling. Looking for new blood, tracking them down, the dance of seduction. It was why his mates had been platonic. He’d never felt like he could settle on just one romantic interest for a human lifetime. Or longer, depending on species. But with Megan, he’d stopped hunting. He’d been too focused on her, he realized. It had thrown him off his game. Maybe if he’d taken a step back sooner, he would have realized…

He shook his head, dumping the broken crematic into the trashcan. It was no use thinking about it. Vampires were prone to obsessive behavior, it was one of the reasons mates were so important. It forced them to move on, to not stay rooted in the past. No wonder Sarif had been worried. With a sigh, Adam walked upstairs. He needed a shower and new clothes. 

There was a knock on his door, right on time. Adam pulled it open warily, to be greeted by a bright and smiling face.

“Hi,” Faridah said, holding out her hand. Adam hesitated a moment, then shook. He scented lightly. Motor oil and what could only be described as sunshine. Surprising, given her kind was more given to the moon. The woman was scenting him as well, and not being discreet about it. 

“Mind if we skip the formalities and just get this over with?” Adam asked, pulling out his sunglasses and putting them on. They stood out at night, but less so than his eyes did. Bright gold wasn’t exactly typical. Faridah moved so he could shut the door. She seemed amused.

“David said you wouldn’t be too thrilled about tonight,” she said. Adam didn’t smell his sire on her, so he hadn’t fed tonight. It wasn’t that they needed to feed every day, nor did most vampires. Still, Sarif’s scent had enough blood smell to indicate he had fed, just not on his mate. Which was unusual for his sire, who found prowling to be troublesome and preferred to simply feed off his mate. 

“He was right,” Adam said, deciding to store the question away for later. Perhaps Sarif had a new lover. It happened every couple of decades. But then why hadn’t smelled another’s scent on him? Sarif had never been secretive of his lovers. In fact, he usually paraded them. It offered them a certain amount of protection, if the coven new about them. 

“Well, I hope I can change your mind,” Faridah said, still smiling as Adam turned to her. The vampire breathed in through his mouth. Her scent irked him. It was so… happy. With a sigh, he waved in her direction.

“After you,” he said. 

“Oh, a gentleman?” Faridah asked, taking the lead with confidence. That was almost any werewolf for you, though. They did everything with confidence, even the low ranking ones. It seemed David’s new mate was no exception to the rule. Adam stuck his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat. 

He actually liked modern clothing. It was easier to put on and move around in. A pair of pants, a sweater, and a trenchcoat. Barely any buttons to speak of. His sire tended to dress in an older fashion, but that was his choice. Faridah was modern herself, with cut off shorts and a tank top. It was a cold night, but werewolves ran at higher temperatures. Vampire’s just generally didn’t notice temperature either way. Faridah practically skipped ahead of him as they entered the city proper. 

“I know a couple pret bars around here, but I imagine you already know the area pretty well,” she said, looking back at him. Adam shrugged. 

“Cities change overnight,” he said. And it was true. Faridah laughed, surprising him. 

“Sorry, you just sound so old,” she said. “When were you turned?”

It was actually a very personal question. Most preternaturals wouldn’t ask another it until they knew each other well. But… she was Sarif’s mate, and it wasn’t a particularly invasive question.

“1627,” I said. Faridah whistled.

“You’re only a few centuries younger than David then,” she said. “I’m pretty young; I was turned in ‘21.”

“Six years ago?” I asked. It was easy to lose track of time when it meant nothing to you. Faridah nodded, grinning. Like all werewolves, she had pronounced canines on both the top and bottom of her mouth. Not so much that it would stand out terribly, but definitely bigger than a human’s. Vampire fangs only grew when they were starving or ready to feed. 

“Yup,” Farida replied. “I was studying to be a pilot, and went to this rave after finals to blow off some steam and well… let’s just say werewolves and Sweets don’t mix.”

“A… rave?” Adam asked. 

“Uh,” Faridah said, blinking. “You know, a big party with loud music and flashing lights?”

“Sure,” the vampire said. He hadn’t realized they’d needed a new name for it. Which meant ‘Sweets’ was probably some kind of drug. Which stood to reason, with their enhanced metabolism, most werewolves tended to take too much at once to get high and stay there. And sometimes they lost control. It seemed Faridah was a victim of this. 

“I know where we should go!” Faridah declared, making Adam jump as she took his wrist and pulled him through the streets. She was going a little fast for a human, but that was typical of younglings. Adam used his own strength to slow her down. It didn’t seem to put her off.

“So where are we going?” the vampire asked. 

“There’s a rave going on tonight in an abandoned warehouse! It’ll be awesome!” Faridah replied, seeming to follow no clear path through back streets, up fire escapes and over rooftops. She’d dropped Adam’s wrist when they’d gotten to the roofs, which was generally safe practice. He had a little trouble keeping up with her. He wasn’t sure what her rush was, but it made him feel old.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Adam asked. Faridah laughed.

“Well, I don’t plan on taking any drugs, and they’ll be plenty of people to lose yourself in,” she said, stopping on a roof. There were lights and music pouring out of a building nearby. Adam winced. This really wasn’t his scene. But the werewolf had already shimmied down a ventilation system and was waiting for him on the ground. Looking around beforehand, Adam jumped. 

“I don’t know about this,” he said, looking up at the building. Faridah laughed.

“Don’t tell me a guy who’s four hundred years old is scared of a little party?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and cocking a brow at him. He raised a brow at her. For a youngling, she was certainly sure of herself. Adam sighed. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he said, and brushed past the woman to enter the building. 

It was incredibly loud. It was hard to hear the actual music over the bass, and the press of bodies created a menagerie of scents. People seemed to be wearing glowing things as well, and Faridah joined in with gusto. She tried to explain things to Adam, but he couldn’t hear her. He just nodded, and stuck to the outskirts of the crowd. People didn’t seem to notice him, which was relatively new. He was used to standing out. 

He could smell alcohol and drugs on the air. That probably accounted for the general sense of abandon of the crowd. This was not Adam’s prowling ground, that much he gleaned right away. But he gave a shot at it. He really did. But he prefered the game; talking, wooing, actual seduction. Going after the senseless just felt… wrong. It was easy and useful in a pinch, but it wasn’t his forte. So, after a few hours, he found Faridah to bid her goodbye. 

To his surprise, she left with him.

“You can stay, you seemed to be enjoying yourself,” Adam said. They could still hear the music, but it was getting fainter. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” the werewolf agreed, tucking her hands behind her head. She’d picked up several glowing bracelets and a necklace. “But tonight isn’t about having fun. It’s about helping you.”

“... thanks,” Adam said, genuinely surprised by her kindness. The werewolf grinned, skipping ahead.

“Anytime,” she said. Then she paused, sniffing. She made a face, and I stopped next to her, scenting. I understood as the smell of alcohol, cheap cologne and frankincense. 

“Von Bruggen,” I said, and Faridah made an annoyed growl of agreement. Arie Von Bruggen was this city’s resident hunter. No one was fond of hunters in general, but the Von Bruggens were an old family. Which meant there was a lot of bad blood between them and the local preternatural community. And Arie did little to ease tensions. 

Hunters were generally seen as a necessary evil. A few centuries ago they had made a pact with the preternatural community; they would only hunt prets that stepped out of line. Which had caused the founding of the Laws. It was important that humans could defend themselves, and the only humans equipped to do so were hunters. That didn’t mean that hunters thought any better of prets.

The hunter in question stumbled around the corner, clearly inebriated in some fashion. He looked like he was dressed for a patrol, which meant he wasn't after anyone in particular at the moment. He spotted the pair of them and wandered over. 

"Hey, Darrow man, wolf girl, how's it?" he asked. Adam frowned. They'd met on several unfortunate occasions, but the hunter refused to remember his name, addressing him by coven instead. The man also seemed oblivious to how the preternatural community thought of his kind. 

"Von Bruggen," Adam said. He found the least aggravating approach to the man was to be civil and curt. Faridah just growled. The hunter held up his hands.

"No need for that now," he said. "Just trying to make conversation." 

“Don’t,” Faridah said. There was real malice behind that, and it caused Adam pause. This was completely different from how she’d been before. It made him wonder what Arie had done to piss her off. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” the hunter said, which was probably for the best. Except, as the man turned, something happened. Something flashed, jutting out from the shadows, aimed at Arie’s head. Adam grabbed the back of the hunter’s collar, jerking him back and out of the way. Except that meant the thing was coming for him, and he could tell he wasn’t going to grab it in time to stop it. 

And then, as if in slow motion, the vampire watched as a crossbow dart hit the flying object. It was a shard of ice, and the dart, aimed at an angle, knocked it aside just enough that it zipped next to Adam’s ear instead of into his skull.

“About damn time,” someone muttered, and another man dressed as a hunter jumped out a nearby window and rolled into the street. He leveled the crossbow at a patch of shadow next to a wall and fired. 

The shadow moved, just barely avoiding the bolt. It shattered on impact with the wall, some drops hitting the shadow and sizzling. Holy water. The other hunter didn’t miss a beat, tossing what looked like a glass grenade at the screeching shadow. It hit part of it, and burst into frozen water. 

“What the fu-” Arie started, staring from the ground where he’d fallen. 

“Wraithe,” Adam said, relaxed where he stood. Wraithes were beings made of concentrated negative energy. They looked like moving shadows, and could freeze the air around them. They were very tricky creatures to deal with; young ones were entirely mindless, consuming whatever humans they came across. They were also common in the modern age, and Von Bruggen should have known what it was. And he especially should have known there was one in the area. 

The wraithe tugged around, trying to dislodge itself from the ice. The other hunter was approaching it cautiously, crossbow drawn and ready. Adam watched him, impressed despite himself. He’d seen hunters work before; he’d even had some after him at times. There was always a certain kind of grace to them, like a large cat on the prowl. Adam could respect that. What caught his interest was that he’d never seen a hunter quite like this one before.

Hunters, as a rule, did not use magic. It was what separated them from preternaturals, afterall. But this one did, without hesitation. They were also arrogant, using brute force to win confrontations and rushing their opponents head on. Granted, most preternaturals employed the same strategy, so it usually equaled out in the end. But this one had hidden, lying in wait. He’d been tracking the damn thing, waiting for it to make its appearance. And yet, when it was pinned, the man was still wary. 

For all that hunters acted like predators, they were clumsy and straightforward. What Adam say now? This was what hunters should be. Using all available resources, utilizing tactical advantages, keeping their guard up until they knew their prey was dead. 

And the hunter’s vigilance did him well, as the wraithe shot free from the ice and launched itself at him. The crossbow hit the ground, firing on impact as the hunter and wraithe collided. The two rolled, and Adam put out a hand to stop Faridah from jumping forward. She looked at him in surprise, then seemed about to protest when the wraithe shrieked. 

Adam had seen what she hadn’t. The hunter had pulled out a blade, most likely made of blessed iron, and found the wraithe’s head. And then severed it. As the shadowy body dissipated, the hunter pushed up on his elbows. He let the blade fall, wiping his hands against his jacket. They had a layer of frost over them from the struggle, and there were other patches on him here and there. 

Adam walked over calmly. There were still rogue hunters, that hunted down any pret they saw. But if this one was like that, he could have just let the wraithe’s ice shard hit Adam in the head. Would have made it easier to take him out afterward. 

“Nice work,” the vampire said, offering the man a hand up. The hunter looked up at him. Adam was struck by the way the light reflected off the blue eyes, making them brighter than they probably where. 

“Thanks,” he said, but ignored the proffered hand in favor of retrieving his weapons. Adam frowned, but let it pass. Not everyone was trusting of prets, especially not hunters. And given some of the history between the three, he honestly couldn’t entirely blame them. “It’s Jensen, right?”

“Someone’s done their homework,” Adam replied, walking around the hunter as the man stood and replaced his weapons. He was shorter than the vampire by a couple inches. Adam scented the air, softly. He couldn’t pick up a scent. The hunter had to be using a masking agent then.

“Only an idiot would enter a new territory without learning the local population,” the hunter replied. He seemed bothered by the vampire’s frank inspection, and turned to glare at him. Adam felt his brows raise. He was certainly a bold one. 

“True enough,” the vampire said, and stood still. There was something… irritating about the hunter. Adam could easily have said it was his rudeness or his audacity, but he wasn’t sure that was it. “And you are…?”

“Pritchard,” the hunter said, folding his arms across his chest. “Satisfied?”

“I thought the Pritchard clan died out,” Adam said. It hit him, what was irritating him. The man was hiding something. He could feel it.

“It did,” he said. “All the legitimate heirs are dead.”

“Then you’re the bastard,” Arie said, suddenly nearby. Adam glared at him. 

“Yes, I’m the bastard,” the other hunter said. Adam looked back at him. He was still hiding something. That was too easy to be the only thing he was hiding.

“We were expecting you a week ago, bastard,” Arie said, throwing a companionable arm around the other hunter. Adam felt a twinge in his hand, but schooled himself still. 

“Well, as you can see,” Pritchard said, extricating himself, “I ran into some trouble.”

“A wraithe made you a week late?” Arie asked, laughing. Pritchard frowned. 

“A nest made me a week late,” he said. Arie made a choked noise and coughed. Adam felt his eyes widen. 

“You took out a wraithe nest by yourself,” he said. Pritchard looked at him, then smiled coldly. 

“I’m just full of surprises,” he said. He glared, and Adam returned the look. An illegitimate lone hunter took out a nest of wraithes? Even full hunters worked as a team against odds like that. There could have been anywhere from fifty to two hundred wraithes in a nest. What was he hiding?

“Well, uh, it’s time we go,” Arie said, leading the way towards the Von Bruggen estate. Pritchard’s glare lingered a moment longer, then he turned and followed the other hunter. Adam watched them go, feeling the blood stir in his body. It was an odd sensation, and something that didn’t happen to vampires often. Adam could feel his fangs lengthening as well. It had been a while since he’d had a real challenge.

Faridah skipped in front of him, and smiled up at the vampire. Adam looked down at her, and raised a brow.

“What’s that look?” he asked. Faridah grinned.

“You like him,” she said. Adam started. 

“What? I-”

“Can’t fool this nose!” the werewolf declared, poking her own nose as a demonstration. “You’re giving off pheromones like crazy. What a whammy!”

“I’m just… excited,” Adam said. Faridah chuckled. 

“Oh, really?” she drawled, clearly mistaking his meaning.

“That hunter is hiding something,” Adam said, turning to head home. “And I intend to find out what.”

“Whatever you say,” Faridah said, shrugging as she followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure if i would call it graphic or not, but there is violence and gore towards the end of this chapter

Adam woke with a start. He sat up in bed, light peeking through the heavy drapes over his window. Vampires didn’t sleep, not exactly, they more went into a state that was closer to dozing than true sleep. Many used it to pass the daylight hours away, with their mate nearby to watch over them. And sometimes, they dreamed.

Adam put a hand over his mouth, feeling his fangs pressing against the skin beneath. He’d been dreaming of glaring blue eyes, clear and determined. This was getting out of hand. He looked at the table next to his bed. He picked up the face down picture, and looked at the face there. 

Nothing. No longing, no feeling of emptiness. Two years of pining, feeling incomplete without her, and now… nothing. He didn’t even resent her, though he had every right to. He had at first, but that had faded over time. Adam put the picture back, face down again. 

He needed blood. It wasn’t going to do much, but it would let him keep in control of himself. He’d had his blood stir once before, but he’d been a young vampire and it was more common at that time. Adam got out of bed and stretched languidly. A vampire with their blood stirred was a vampire who felt almost alive again. No one was sure how it worked, exactly, but it was common knowledge that it happened during times of extreme agitation or excitement. Adam wasn’t sure what it was about this hunter that had him going, but he was definitely going to find out.

The problem with the blood stirring, Adam reflected while making his way to his kitchen, was that it always had a person as the focal point. It was inescapable. And so he was craving the hunter’s blood. God, he didn’t even know the man’s scent. If he couldn’t figure out what the man was hiding soon enough, he was going to get so worked up he’d lose control. Which wasn’t a good situation in general, but given that his prey would be a hunter, things were even more complicated.

Blood in the microwave, Adam went and retrieved his phone. He still had a house phone, despite the times. He hadn’t found much reason to get a mobile phone, given he only made calls at home. He pulled it into the kitchen, getting his mug of warmed blood from the microwave before spinning the dial to make a call. It was early evening yet, so he wasn’t surprised that it took a few minutes before it was answered.

“Hello…?” the voice was groggy. Just woken up. 

“Wayne, it’s Adam,” the vampire said. Wayne Haas was Adam’s progeny. He’d turned him about seventy years ago, when they were police officers together. He was the only person Adam had turned in his time as a vampire. 

“Oh, hey Adam, what is it?” Haas asked, followed by a yawn. If Sarif and Adam’s relationship was relaxed, then Adam and Wayne’s was casual at best. Adam wasn’t a fan of the strict hierarchy system that most vampires employed; instead, he treated his progeny as an equal. It was also why Haas had never been introduced to the rest of the Darrow clan. It wasn’t actually required that he introduce his progeny, but it would likely cause Adam some trouble if the rest of the clan found out he had one without introducing him. So he had made very sure Wayne knew the Laws and the rules of clan Darrow in particular. That way, the discovery would never come as an embarrassment to the clan.

“Listen, are you still in New York?” Adam asked. Wayne was, for the most part, free roaming. He stuck mostly to the Eastern seaboard and Midwest, but sometimes Adam would use the man as his eyes and ears in other parts of the world. He was a damned good detective, and, like his sire, he had a certain advantage other vampires didn’t.

“Rhode Island, actually,” Wayne said. 

“Who’s tha’?” a sleepy voice asked in the background. Wayne’s mate, Orion, was a low-level demon. Xe were content to travel around with the vampire, and as demons were as immortal as vampires were, it would mean that Wayne would never need to find another mate. Immortal mates, however, were highly discouraged. Another reason Adam kept his progeny away.

“It’s Adam,” Wayne replied, softly. 

“Wha’s he wan’?” Orion replied. The demon usually employed a Cajun accent, although xe was older than the people by far.

“I’m about to find out,” Wayne said. “Sorry about that, what were you asking?”

“Think you can go to New Hampshire and dig up some dirt on a hunter?” I asked. I gently probed my fangs with my fingers. They had shrunk down, but were still longer than usual. Well, it was a start. 

“Sure, I can be there by tonight,” Wayne said. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“No,” I said, after a brief consideration. “I’m not sure what you’ll find on him. All I know right now is he’s an illegitimate son of the Pritchard clan.”

“A bastard hunter?” Wayne asked. It was the usual slang for hunters that weren’t considered ‘pure’ hunters; that was, hunters that had one parent that was not from another hunter clan. Adam had used the term himself before, but now it made him twitch. He took a breath, made himself relax.

“It looks like it,” Adam said. “He came into town last night. Claims he took out a nest of wraithes on the way.”

“A nest? By himself?” Wayne asked. 

“Or so he claims,” Adam said. 

“But you believe him, don’t you?” Wayne asked. “Otherwise, why send me?”

“You know me too well,” Adam replied, smiling faintly. “I think he’d hiding something. It’s making my blood stir, and I want to know what it is.”

“It’s- for real?” Wayne asked. The younger vampire had experienced stirring when he’d first run into Orion. Fortunately, the demon had known what was going on, and things had turned out well. Adam hadn’t been there at the time, but the few occasions he’d met Orion made him believe xe was a decent sort of person. Of course, given xe were also an incubus, he wasn’t sure how much of that he could trust. 

“Yeah,” Adam said. “So I need this resolved as soon as possible.”

“Got it,” Wayne said. “I’ll give you a ring as soon as I figure something out.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, and hung up. 

 

In Rhode Island, Wayne hung up his cell and put it on the nightstand. They were in a hotel, as always; a nice bed and breakfast near a river. Arms snaked around his shoulders, his mate leaning into him,.

“So, cher, wha’s this about a bastard hunter?” xe asked. Wayne leaned back into xem, enjoying xyr warmth.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Just thinks the guy’s hiding something, and it’s making his blood stir.”

“Oh? Is he sure is jus’ the mystery makin’ ‘im get all worked up?” Orion asked, kissing xyr vampire’s shoulder. Wayne laughed, shrugging. 

“Probably not, but he’s not going to listen to anyone tell him otherwise until he has to,” he said. Orion laughed. 

“He’s lucky he has you lookin’ out fer him,” xe said. Wayne shrugged, then stood and stretched.

“Well, in any case, I said we’d be in New Hampshire by tonight,” he said. Orion blinked, then smiled.

“A Pritchard? Well, this jus’ keeps gettin’ better,” xe said. 

“You have something against them?” Wayne asked, getting dressed. Orion laughed. 

“Bunch a uptight holier-than-thou types,” xe said. “Nice to see them taken down a peg.”

“You’re an ass,” Wayne said, but smiled, pulling on his shirt and starting to button up. Orion smirked, and got out of bed like xe was made out of liquid. Xe slipped xyr hands against the vampire’s abdomen, pushing back his shirt. 

“Well, if we’re already goin’ into a hunter town,” xe said, pressing against xyr vampire, “We should make sure you’re well fed. Don’t you think, cher?”

“I think,” Wayne said, laughing and pulling away, “We’ve been in this room for three days, and if I get anymore fed, I’ll be too full to move.”

“You’re no fun, cher,” Orion said, pouting. 

“Sorry, love,” Wayne said, kissing his mate on xyr forehead. “Business first.”

“Fine, as you say,” Orion replied, and started dressing xemself. Wayne chuckled again, and finished with his shirt. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. Orion hummed in agreement.

“You better,” xe said. 

“I will,” Wayne said, pulling his mate against him. “Promise.”

“Alright, cher, I believe you,” Orion said. “Now let’s get moving, shall we?”

 

Back in Detroit, Adam got ready to go out as night fell. Hunters were only sent to other clans for one reason; to keep bloodlines in tact. Given this new hunter was the only surviving, viable heir to the Pritchard clan, he would have been sent to the Van Bruggen’s to prove his worth as a hunter. And then find a wife. Something about the thought made the vampire twitch, but he ignored it. 

As he opened the front door, his phone rang. Adam paused, considering. He could always ignore it, pretend he was out. But it could be his sire, in which case, Sarif would establish a mental link with him if necessary. It was considered rude to do so unnecessarily. Of course, necessary was objective. With a sigh, Adam closed the door and answered the phone.

“Hello?” he said.

“A hunter?” Sarif demanded. “A goddamn hunter, Adam?”

“It wasn’t exactly planned, boss,” Adam replied, leaning against a nearby counter. 

“I send you out one night to try and get you back on the prowl, and you decide to go after a hunter?” Sarif continued, as if he hadn’t heard. Adam sighed. 

“It’s not like that,” he said. “I don’t know what Faridah told you-”

“She told me you saw a goddamn hunter and immediately started letting off pheromones,” Sarif said. He sounded like he was at his wits end. Which, given the circumstances he thought were occurring, Adam could see why. 

“That’s not what happened,” he said again. Vampires had the ability to release certain pheromones in order to attract their prey. In some cases, the use was entirely instinctual. Typically if a vampire was attracted to their target themselves. 

“You want to try and convince me that a werewolf didn’t smell you giving off pheromones?” Sarif asked. 

“It wasn’t because I was attracted to him,” Adam said. 

“Oh really?” Sarif asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What a relief. And here I thought you’d gone mad.”

“He’s hiding something,” Adam went on. “I need to figure out what it is.”

“Really?” Sarif asked. “Listen, son, I know Megan leaving was hard on you-”

“This isn’t about that,” Adam snapped. He growled at himself, covering his eyes with his hand. “Sorry. I’m just irritated.”

“You’re irritated?” Sarif asked, a very dry hint of amusement in his voice. “No, no, forgive me. I’m only trying to look out for you.”

“I know that, I just… it’s the goddamn hunter,” Adam said, for lack of a better explanation. He hated this. It was going to make him sound like he really was attracted to the prick. 

“What about him?” Sarif asked. He seemed a little more receptive now than he had at the start of the conversation. Adam took a breath, then let it out.

“He’s got my blood stirring,” he said. Sarif was quiet on the other end. “But I’m telling you, it’s-”

“Adam, enough,” Sarif said. The older vampire sighed theatrically. “This is going to turn into such a scandal.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it…” Adam said. Sarif did, in fact, sound happy, pleased even. The man was an incorrigible gossip, and anything even remotely resembling a scandal was sure to pique his interest. Even if the scandal was something he’d have to take care of.

“Cheer up, son,” Sarif said. “It’s not like you can help stirring in the blood. Hunter or no hunter, you’ll have to pursue the focus of it.”

“I told you, it’s because-” Adam said, becoming more and more frustrated at people making the wrong assumptions about what was going on. 

“Yes, yes, he’s hiding something, right?” Sarif asked, dismissive. Adam grit his teeth. There was no convincing his sire at this point and he knew it. It didn’t make the situation any less irritating. 

“Right,” he said instead, trying to keep the growl out of his voice. 

“So, now that I understand the situation a bit better,” Sarif said, “I guess I know I can’t stop you.”

“No, you can’t,” Adam said, checking the time. Hopefully, he’d still be able to catch the hunter leaving the Van Bruggen estate. Otherwise, he’d have a hell of a time tracking a man that masked his scent.

“Adam… just, be careful, son,” Sarif said. 

“Of course, boss,” Adam replied. There was a pause.

“Well, good luck,” the older vampire said, and hung up. 

 

Across town, the new hunter was gearing up for patrol duty. He was staying in an austere guest house on the Van Bruggen estate. He was almost certain it was actually meant for a live in servant’s house, but it didn’t bother him either way. He actually preferred it, as it afforded him some privacy staying in the manor proper would not. Besides, he was used to being ignored. 

There was a knock at the front door. Tucking away his crossbrow last, Pritchard went to answer it. 

“Hey, ready to go?” Arie asked. Pritchard wrinkled his nose. He didn’t much care for the heir to the Van Bruggen name. But there wasn’t much he could do about the situation.

“You’re late,” Pritchard replied, brushing past the man as he exited. He shut the door behind him, and locked it. He was sure the family had another key, but it would at least keep out anyone else. 

“Whoa, no need to be so uptight,” Arie said, holding up his hands. Pritchard sighed. Arie couldn’t understand. He was born a full hunter, and heir to his family’s name. For him, this was less a job and more of a game. He won no matter how things turned out. If it hadn’t been for that group that attacked the Pritchard estate… the man shook his head. It didn’t matter. Regardless of how it happened, he was now responsible for the name of clan Pritchard. He felt himself smile at the irony in that. 

“Let’s just get moving,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. It would be pointless to try and explain things to Arie. Better just to prove himself to the rest of the family and get back to New Hampshire to recuperate. Arie shrugged, following behind. 

Despite the fact that Arie was supposed to be showing him around the city, it was Pritchard who took the lead. It didn’t bother the new hunter. He preferred performing his own reconnaissance, figuring out his own routes. Besides, Arie’s ‘patrol route’ seemed more like a bar route. Most of which weren’t even pret bars. Around the fifth or sixth such stop, Pritchard took his leave of the other hunter. He waited until he was about a block away before confronting his shadow. 

“Something I can help you with, Jensen?” he asked, not bothering to stop. The vampire dropped from a nearby rooftop, mouth quirked in a smile.

“What gave me away?” he asked, matching pace with the hunter. Pritchard sighed. He’d just have to put up with the man for now, whatever the case may be. 

“I saw you talking to someone outside one of the bars,” he said. He checked his crossbow, just in case. Holy water darts, effective on most prets. It wouldn’t kill an older vampire, but it would still cause significant damage. 

“Letitia,” Jensen said. “She’s a ghoul, and a good informant. Has her ear to the ground.” 

“Who’s ghoul is she?” Pritchard asked, annoyed. Ghouls were humans that were fed on vampire blood. Their patron exerted a certain amount of control over them. They weren’t turned, and ingesting vampire blood while still alive insured they never would be. Still, he supposed there were advantages to the situation. Slight increase in physical and sensory abilities, an extended life, protection of a vampire. All it cost was their freedom.

“Mine,” Jensen replied mildly. Pritchard actually stopped in shock to look at the vampire. He’d seen ghouls and their patron talk before. The ghoul would usually be fawning over their master, subservient in every way. That had not been the conversation he’d witnessed between Letitia and Jensen. The vampire looked amused, like he knew what the hunter was thinking. 

“You’re mocking me,” Pritchard decided at last, turning to walk on. Jensen chuckled, trailing a few steps behind.

“I’m not,” the vampire said. 

“Then you honestly expect me to believe you have a ghoul that doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?” Pritchard asked, stopping to glare at the vampire. Jensen’s eyebrow quirked. He paused, about a foot of space between them.

“We’re not all like that,” he said, a bitter ring to his tone. Pritchard snorted.

“Right, of course not, only some of you are monsters,” he said. That earned him a growl, and Jensen took a step forward. Pritchard stood his ground, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Talking like that will get you killed someday,” the vampire said, softly. Pritchard rolled his eyes.

“Is that a threat?” he asked. He would have completely legitimate claims to attack the vampire if he was being threatened. He was surprised when the vampire closed the distance between them and tilted his head down, enough to look him in the eye over the shades. 

“A warning,” Jensen said. Pritchard was struck by the way the golden eyes seemed to glow. There was no malice there, or at least no intent for harm. “I mean it when I say we’re not all, as you say, monsters. That doesn’t mean that none of us are.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Pritchard said, still a bit caught off guard. The vampire gaze was a powerful thing; the man wasn’t using it to influence the hunter, that much Pritchard could tell. He’d been trained to recognize an intrusion on his mind. But that didn’t mean the sheer unconscious force of it wasn’t enough to unnerve him. Jensen pulled back, letting the shades cover his eyes again.

“Good,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. Pritchard scoffed.

“What do you care, anyway? I’m a hunter, remember?” he asked. Jensen smiled coldly.

“A rather bold one, at that,” he said. Pritchard’s eye narrowed, trying to decipher the meaning behind the comment. “I think you’re hiding something, hunter. I intend to find out what it is. It would be a shame if you got yourself killed before then.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Pritchard asked, frowning. He didn’t like having a vampire digging into his past. They were notoriously good at finding out the things they wanted to know. Jensen grinned.

“Because then I couldn’t see the look on your face after I find out what it is,” he said. Pritchard glared, then turned on his heel and walked away.

“Well, good luck with that,” he said, continuing on his route. He heard a chuckle behind him.

“I don’t need luck,” the vampire said, and it was just smug enough that Pritchard turned to reply. Except the vampire had disappeared. The hunter looked around warily, but didn’t expect to see Jensen. Seeing him before had only been a fluke; the vampire was good at keeping himself hidden. 

Inside a derelict apartment complex, Adam watched the hunter finally walk away. He was impressed despite himself. The man had inferred from seeing him talking to Tish outside a bar that he was being followed. Either the vampire had been less careful than he’d thought, or the hunter had just taken a wild guess. 

Adam followed the hunter by rooftop and fire escape, watching the way he sounded out the territory. Ditching Arie had probably been a good move on his part; it gave him the freedom to roam in the shadows the Van Bruggen heir usually avoided. Of course, there was a reason for that.

The hunter moved in the shadows like someone that belonged there. It roused Adam’s curiosity even more. Who was this man? What was his story? Given the conversation they’d just had, the vampire would have to be content with watching and waiting for now. It seemed the hunter didn’t like him much. It didn’t really bother him. It was actually refreshing to meet a hunter that wasn’t either groveling or afraid the first time they met. 

Adam paused as the wind changed. It carried with it a scent, something new yet familiar. A kind of pret he’d run into before, or… and then it hit him. With a curse, he dropped from the rooftop, landing in front of the hunter. Pritchard made a surprised sound before Adam felt the punch catch him in the gut. It wasn’t meant for him, and was therefore not strong enough to do him much damage. He grabbed the invisible arm of his assailant and launched them up and over, slamming them into the ground. 

With a grunt, the necromancer lost her invisibility. Necromancers tended to smell the way the undead did; like cold earth. But, unlike vampires, there was also a thread of sickness and decay in them, much like the corpses they rose. Some were little more than corpses themselves in the end. 

“Shit,” Pritchard cursed, and fired at her. She twisted out of Adam grip and jumped back, narrowly avoiding the holy water dart. She smiled, eyes going white as she chanted her spell of invisibility once again. The hunter had already reloaded the crossbow, and pulled out what looked like a waterskin. It turned out to be filled with salt, which he spread around himself in a circle. A good precaution; it would keep the necromancer from being able to possess him. Adam, being undead himself, was immune to such magic already.

The vampire scented the air. That would be the easiest way to locate the woman. But her scent was like smoke wafting around, and she was purposely moving in circles to throw him off. He sensed her next move just before her foot contacted with his robs. He felt them crack, and grabbed her leg. He spun her into the brick wall, which cracked with the force of the blow. The hunter fired off a dart, and this time it struck home. 

The necromancer growled, invisibility dropping again as she lunged for Adam. The vampire still held her leg, ribs already repairing themselves as he jumped back, pulling her with him. The holy water left a burn on the woman’s chest, and Adam pulled her forward while lengthening his claws to stab her through the heart. Unfortunately, it wasn’t there. 

The necromancer smiled, then punched Adam in the face, throwing the vampire back into the wall of a building. She went invisible again, and dodged one of the hunter’s ice grenades. Adam pulled himself from the wall, shaking debris from his hair. Sunglasses broken, he tossed them away. The hunter had already discarded his crossbow in favor of a blade, which turned out to be advantageous as the necromancer tossed a trashcan at the man, forcing him to jump from his salt circle. 

Pritchard struck out wide, trying to estimate where the woman would attack from. He missed, and the necromancer appeared as she kicked him in the stomach, launching him back a few feet. Winded, the hunter coughed, struggling to his knees.

Adam charged the necromancer with what was becoming a feral fury. He could feel his fangs against his lower lip, and used them to bite into the woman’s shoulder as he barreled into her. They slammed into the ground, hard, and struggled against each other. Adam clawed and bit, the necromancer punching and kicking. They rolled around, each trying to press the advantage against the other. She was stronger than she looked, drawing strength from spirits bound to her. But Adam was an old vampire, and could match her.

The necromancer managed to get on top, and struck Adam in the head, hard enough to stun him for a moment. She used that moment to raise both arms above her head, hands forming a fist. As she went to bring it down, she was struck in the side by a holy water dart. Adam hissed at the droplets that hit him, but ignored them. Utilizing the hunter’s distraction, he pushed the woman off of him. She rolled, coming to her feet, and the two faced off in the alleyway. 

Pritchard had his crossbow leveled at the necromancer. She glanced at him, them Adam. With a sudden smile, she went invisible again. The hunter fired to no effect, then cursed dodged just as the woman’s leg came down in a drop kick. The impact caused her to become visible again, and, rather than run, the hunter used the moment slash at her with his knife. She dodged by less than an inch, then pressed the offensive. Adam watched, holding himself still, waiting.

The hunter was barely holding his own, dodging and blocking more than he struck. The blows were clearly jarring, causing the hunter’s face to pale as he bore with the pain. It was when the woman struck a blow to Pritchard’s abdomen that the man showed his hand. He’d been waiting for her to strike him; he used it to move in closer. He plunged his knife into the back of her neck, pulling her against himself to sink it in to the hilt. The necromancer made a gurgling noise of anger, and scratched at the hunter where she could reach. Pritchard hissed, but held on. 

Adam wasted no time in rushing over, grabbing the knife hilt and using it to partially decapitate the necromancer. It caused the hunter and the woman to separate, and Adam punched her head the rest of the way off. Still functioning, her body stumbled around, attempting to locate her head. Adam crushed it beneath his foot. The body fell then, twitching lifeless a few minutes more. 

“That’s disgusting,” Pritchard said, then turned and retched. He’d ended up on his knees after separating from the necromancer, and Adam walked over and leaned down next to him.

“You ok?” he asked, nails digging into his knee as he forced himself to remain still. He could smell the hunter’s blood and it was driving him insane. It also made his scent stand out in sharp relief; like a forest before the rain, rich and earthy, but an undertone of cold, clear water. The hunter turned back, away from his sick, and wiped his mouth. He was breathing heavily, and looked at the vampire, carefully avoiding eye contact.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then hissed when he pressed a hand to his side. There were long rents in his clothing and skin from the necromancer. Adam’s nails broke skin, but he didn’t make a sound. “What about you, Vlad the Impaler?”

“I wouldn’t call that impaling,” the vampire said, and under normal circumstances he would have found the reference amusing. Now, however, he was irritated and just trying to keep himself from grabbing the hunter and drinking from him by force. It would probably be forgiven in these circumstances, but it would still be a shitty thing to do. Pritchard tried to stand, unsteady on his feet. 

“Thanks,” he said, sounding tired as Adam rose and supported his weaker side. The hunter’s blood seeped into his coat, and the vampire was beginning to feel dazed by the scent. 

“Any idea what that was?” he asked, to keep him mind off the bleeding man. Pritchard shook his head.

“No, but…” he paused, and looked up at the vampire, meeting his gaze. “There are more of them.”

“How do you know?” Adam asked, standing stock still to avoid influencing the hunter.

“Because she’s one of the people that killed the Pritchard heirs.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So, let me get this straight,” Adam said, crossing his arms. “You’re telling me that a necromancer, a minotaur and a dragon are working together, and launched an attack against a hunter estate?”

Pritchard glared at the closed door. He’d let the vampire help him back to the guest house he was staying in when they couldn’t find Arie, and had closed himself in the bathroom to tend to his wounds. The vampire had stayed behind, however, and prid an explanation out of the hunter.

“That would be what I just said, yes,” Pritchard replied, finishing with the wrap around his torso. He grabbed his pants, pulling them on carefully over the gauze on his leg. Except for the rent in the side, they were fine. And he was not walking around a vampire in nothing but his underwear. Sighing and leaving the shirt and jacket as a lost cause, e exited the bathroom.

“It just seems farfetched,” Adam said, quickly glancing away from the hunter. He was leaning on the wall next to the bathroom door. The vampire had to breath shallowly, through his mouth, to avoid getting drunk off the scent of the hunter’s blood. Although the man had patched himself up, his scent was still emanating from the bathroom. Adam shouldn’t have gone two years without fresh blood, it was straining his self control. At least, that was the only reason he could come up with. 

“Farfetched or not, it’s what happened,” Pritchard said. He could feel the vampire’s eyes on him as he reapplied his masking agent. It was like feeling someone stand right behind you; not close enough to touch, but close enough. It was bad enough that he was self conscious around normal people. There was no telling what a vampire thought of all his scars. Probably that he was weak; fragile.

Adam let out a soft but audible sigh of relief. The hunter masking is scent again was helping clear his head. It was clearly cursory, as the man only rubbed a salve over his neck and shoulders, but it went a long way. Like all hunters, Pritchard was marked by scars. They criss-crossed and varied in size. The man also had a tattoo on his shoulder, and something about it sparked a sense of familiarity in Adam.

“A protective rune?” he asked, momentarily distracted. Pritchard flinched, then grabbed a turtleneck from the suitcase on the bed and pulled it on. The vampire hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but doing so made it click. The rune was highly prevalent among preternaturals as it was a relatively low level spell that afford general protection from ill fortune. Adam had seen Megan bind the rune to various prets over the course of their relationship, sometimes even for free.

“It’s just a tattoo,” Pritchard said, but the vampire could hear his heart rate jump.

“Hasn’t anyone told you not to lie to a vampire?” Adam asked, feeling a tug at the corner of his mouth. The hunter turned to glare at him, momentarily forgetting the vampire’s lack of sunglasses. He quickly glanced askance. 

“It’s irrelevant,” Pritchard said, which was true. At least, in the case of the necromancer. It was, however, piquing Adam’s interest once again. There hadn’t been any familiar pret scents in the hunter’s scent, but that didn’t entirely rule out the possibility of him being half pret. There were, after all, a lot of preternaturals in the world.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Adam asked, getting back to the matter at hand. He needed to calm down. His fangs were lengthening, and he still had the scent of the hunter’s blood. Pritchard pulled on an extra jacket, restocking his supplies.

“I already told the van Bruggens what happened in New Hampshire,” he said. “They seemed to believe me as well as you did.”

“I never said I didn’t believe you,” Adam said, surprising the hunter into looking at him. The man man didn’t look away fast enough this time, and was caught by the golden-eyed gaze.

“Does… does that mean that you do?” Pritchard asked, trying not to show how unnerved he was. His tongue felt thick and heavy, and it was a struggle to get the words out. He was also as unaccustomed to being taken seriously as he was to having someone’s full attention. And a vampire’s full attention was something else entirely, as they have a physical force of will. It had a tendency, even when not actively in use, to put the target in a more amenable mindset.

“I do,” Adam said, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between them. Pritchard stood his ground, which was impressive considering the way his legs were shaking. A normal side-effect of prolonged eye contact with older vampires. Adam reached out, hand cupping the hunter’s chin. The skin was warm, and the vampire could feel Pritchard’s pulse beneath his fingertips. At this point, all it would take was a little push of will and the hunter would be in his thrall.

Gently but firmly, Adam turned Pritchard’s head sideways. The hunter blinked, relaxing suddenly as he was released from the vampire’s will. Then e flinched as Adam leaned close.

“You should be more careful,” he said, right into the hunter’s ear. Pritchard tried to pull away, and the vampire let him. The hunter put a hand to his ear by instinct, still feeling the ghost of the vampire’s voice.

“I had things under control,” Pritchard said, coming back to himself. He was resolutely looking forward, but pushed his crossbow closer to Adam. The vampire looked down as it touched his stomach. At his age, holy water wouldn’t kill him, but it would still hurt like a bitch. He hadn’t even noticed the hunter grab it off the bed. 

“So you did,” he said, and took a step back. He was impressed in spite of himself. Unfortunately, that wasn’t abating his bloodlust. If anything, it was making it worse. Adam did so love a challenge. And he hadn’t actually been shot as of yet, which was a good sign. 

“I’m going to tell the van Bruggens about what happened tonight,” Pritchard said, turning without looking at the vampire to walk out of the room. “I think you should leave before they see you.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Adam said. The hunter scoffed, leading the way out of the house.

“Please,” he said, “I care about my standing with the van Bruggens, not your safety.”

Adam chuckled, but said no more. He needed to get out of there. Now.

 

In New Hampshire, it was raining. Wayne sighed, pulling up the hood on his hoodie. He had asked his mate to ask around the local pret bars, while he checked out the hunter estate. There was no telling how the Pritchards felt about prets on their property, so he approached cautiously. 

At the smell of blood, the vampire knew something was wrong. 

He hurried up to the gate, finding the guards’ lifeless bodies bloody and gored. Sniffing, he determined they’d not been dead long. Taking out a firearm, Wayne proceeded onto the grounds. There were more mangled bodies along the way, and even some that were burned to a crisp. The smell was horrible, and made it impossible to make out anything else.

The door to the main manor was blasted off. Wayne walked cautiously through the smoldering hole where it used to be. He followed the trail of devastation to the third floor, picking his way over bodies to a room that looked to be a study. Wayne peered inside.

There was a naked man in the middle of the room, and a minotaur to his side. They faced an old man, presumably the head of the Pritchard clan.

“Well, you have my attention,” the man said.

“I think that’s something of an understatement,” the naked man said. He smelled like burnt flesh and gold. From what Wayne had learned, that made him a dragon. It made a certain kind of sense, between his nakedness and the burnt bodies.

“What is it you people want? Revenge?” the head asked.

“Nothing so simple, Carlisle,” the dragon said. “Since you are not long for this world, I will tell you what we want. Freedom.”

“Ha! And you think killing hunters will accomplish that?” Carlisle asked. The minotaur laughed then, a cruel sound that made the clan head doubt. 

“It’s not freedom from you we are after,” the dragon said. “It’s freedom from the shadows. From begin shuffled into dark places and underground cities. Freedom to rule the way our kind is meant to.”

“And how will killing my clan accomplish that?” Carlisle asked. The dragon was walking around the room, picking up items and examining them before setting them back down.

“Tell me, Carlisle, are you familiar with today’s technology?” he asked. Wayne felt uneasy. The smell of carnage should mask his presence, but how was he supposed to fight if they noticed him? He didn’t really think he was a match for them. 

“Technology? What are you-”

“The internet is an especially innovative creation, wouldn’t you say?” the dragon went on. “Pictures, stories, videos, all shared in an instant. And humans carry it around with them in their pockets. Tell me, Carlisle, in this day and age, how long do you think it would take for news of another preternatural war to spread?”

“By God…” Carlisle said, face slack with shock. Wayne had heard enough. The vampire retreated, quickly and quietly as possible. Behind him, he heard the dragon speak.

“Barrett, take care of the vampire whelp.”

Wayne broke out into a dead run. It was a vampire skill, one where they killed all of their other advanced senses and put all of their collective willpower into running. They could even pull on the will of their progeny, if they had any. Unfortunately, Wayne had never turned anyone, and only had himself to rely on.

Minotaurs were not particularly fast creatures, but like bulls, they could charge was amazing speed. So Barrett ignored the stairs in favor of charging headlong out the side of the building, landing in front of the fleeing vampire. Wayne raised his gun and fired three rounds on instinct, one to the head and two the chest. He didn’t slow down or stop, just jumped over the fallen minotaur and kept running. Barrett’s thick skin and skull saved him from death, and he grabbed at the vampire’s leg as he leapt over him, missing by inches.

With an angry cry, the minotaur rose up and charged after his quarry, almost matching his speed with blind rage. Wayne didn’t pay attention to where he was going, but instinct caused him to duck into alleyways and backstreets. Barrett couldn’t maneuver well in the confined spaces, and so the vampire gradually gained a lead on him. He could still hear the minotaur crashing into buildings behind him when he ran into Orion.

The incubus didn’t even stop to ask him what was going on. Xe just ran past his mate, back towards the minotaur. A common misconception with low-level demons like imps and incubi was that they were weak or only good at one thing. The truth of the matter was that, while they were highly specialized, they were only weak when compared to other demons. So, while Orion could be bested by other preternaturals, xe was unlikely to just stand by or run away. In fact, xe was notorious for instigating fights and giving as good as xe got.

Which ultimately caught Barrett off guard as the incubus charged up and hit him with an uppercut. It knocked the minotaur back, stumbling a few steps. Orion used it to xyr advantage, delivering a series of jabs and kicks to the hulking creature. Barrett got his arms up in defense, then tried to hit the incubus with a haymaker. It was interrupted as Wayne shot the minotaur in the arm, three times. Orion pressed in, and threw Barrett. 

The minotaur let out a cry of rage, and grabbed the incubus’s head. He surged up, ramming xem into a wall. Wayne fired at the minotaur’s head, one round after the other. The fifth finally pierced Barrett’s skull, and the minotaur rounded on the vampire, dropping his mate. He was in a beserker mode now, and charged Wayne. The vampire dove out of the way, landing on the ground hard and firing off another four rounds at the minotaur’s back. They only seemed to annoy the beast, who turned to charge once more. 

Orion, head bloody, pushed off the way and kicked the bull head with both feet, knocking him off course. The incubus landed on the ground heavily, barely rolling out from under the charging hooves. Wayne shouted as Barrett ran over one of his legs, but thankfully that was the most damage the minotaur managed due to Orion’s intervention. The vampire pushed himself up, and took careful aim at the minotaur’s head. He only had three shots left, he was going to make them count. Seeing his mate’s objective, Orion slipped in behind him to move him out of the way if necessary.

Barrett charged again. Wayne fired his three shots, all three right between the eyes. The second pierced the skull, and the third killed him. But the minotaur’s momentum carried him forward, and Orion was tensed to move xyr mate until something struck the minotaur through the chest and pinned him to the ground. 

The pair looked on in amazement of the giant spike of ice, the minotaur only inches in front of them. Orion helped xyr mate stand, the young vampire’s leg healing more slowly than his older counterparts would. 

“You were at the Pritchard estate, yes?” the voice belonged to a woman. Or at least, the semblance of one. She looked to be entirely made out of water, standing on top of the spike of ice. She looked directly at Wayne, either ignoring or otherwise not seeing his mate.

“Yeah, I was,” the vampire answered. The woman, if she was one, stepped off the spike and landed on the minotaur’s dead body. She walked forward until she stood on the ground in front of the vampire and incubus, standing at a little over four feet tall. She looked up at them, then back at the minotaur. 

“Follow me,” she said, and started walking. Looking at each other, Wayne and Orion acquiesced. The vampire’s leg had healed enough that he could walk, and continued knitting itself together as they went. 

 

Adam closed the door to his house, then leaned back against it. He let himself slip down, until he was sitting on the floor. He needed blood, and quickly. Otherwise he was just going to go out and find the hunter again, and that was not going to end well. It was like he could still smell the hunter’s blood… and then it hit him. 

The vampire pulled off his coat, turning it and holding it in front of himself. When he’d helped Pritchard stand, he’d gotten the hunter’s blood on his coat. He’d almost forgotten about it. Adam held the coat close, took a deep inhale. The hunter’s scent flooded his system, and he felt relaxed. This wasn’t good. With no way to stop himself, the vampire pressed the coat closer and licked the dry blood. 

If the smell was one thing, the taste was another. Vampires could sense memories through blood, usually whatever the bearer was feeling at the time. Pritchard’s blood tasted like pain, but Adam had flashes of other things. Disapproving glances, hushed arguments. An ethereally beautiful women with crossed arms and a frown. A deep, dark part of a forest, with a lake hidden in the recesses of the trees. A large, empty manor where the silence presses more heavily than the harsh words. 

Adam felt pathetic, lapping up dried blood and tenuously connecting to memories that weren’t his to know. At this he had to admit defeat. He didn’t care about the hunter’s secret anymore. Probably didn’t care about it as much as he thought he had in the beginning. He liked the difficult man with the audacity to stand up to a vampire and take on a necromancer on his own. He liked the confidence he had in his own abilities, the way he moved with surety on the field of battle. He liked the vulnerable side his blood exposed, the one he kept hidden with sarcasm and cynicism. Adam wanted to know more about him, but not because he felt like Pritchard was hiding something. 

The vampire wanted the hunter. He wanted to drink his blood while it was still warm in pulsing, to crawl inside his mind and smooth out the rough patches. He wanted to touch him, bed him even; to trace the scars across his body and overwhelm the memories they brought up with memories of him. Of them, together. He wanted to pull the hunter into his mind as well, slowly, let the man explore and get to know him. To get so tangled up together it was hard to separate one from the other. 

Adam had never felt this before. After becoming a vampire, he’d never let himself get so close to his mates or lovers. He had only ever had humans, and he knew that they would die. Better not to lose himself in temporary havens and have to keep rebuilding his life over and over. It was why, despite the rules, he envied Wayne. He had a mate that was more likely to outlive him than not. He didn’t have to worry about transitory relationships meant to pass the time. 

He couldn’t mate with the hunter. He’d take over the man’s life. Adam growled, burying his head in his now clean coat. But he couldn’t leave the man alone, either. Not now. The scent of his blood would haunt the vampire, ever driving him back to the hunter. He could no more stop himself from going after the man than he could have stopped himself from tasting his blood minutes ago. 

Was it because he had abstained? Adam had never before tried not to seduce or otherwise convince his quarry to let him drink their blood. Nor had he held back during such ample opportunities to do so. It was like he’d been playing mind games with himself, seeing how far he could go before his self control snapped. Now he was strung out, licking dried blood off his coat sitting on the floor.

With a resigned sigh, the vampire stood. He hung up his coat in the closet, went to the kitchen and forced himself to heat up some blood. Then he choked it down, the taste bland and sterile after his delve into the hunter’s blood. He would have to try and forge a relationship with the hunter. A real relationship. For that to work, he needed to have restraint. So he had more blood, until he felt like he couldn’t drink anymore. Then, sitting down in the den, he called Wayne.

His progeny didn’t answer. Adam called again with the same results. He could contact him mentally, but there wasn’t necessarily a need for that. The vampire tried calling one more time, to no avail, then cursed and stood. 

_Wayne._

He probed mentally. It wasn’t an emergency, but he needed to know how things were going. The response was immediate.

 _Adam?_ his progeny replied. _Sorry, I’m in the middle of the woods right now. No service._

 _It’s fine,_ Adam said, sitting back down. _Have you made any progress?_

 _Well, that’s the thing,_ Wayne said, and opened his mind. It was an invitation Adam took to look through his progeny’s eyes. He was surprised to see the woman in the hunter’s memories.

 _What’s going on?_ Adam asked. Wayne sighed. 

_The Pritchard clan was massacred earlier. This is Spyridoula. She’s a naiad, and claims to be your hunter’s mother._ Wayne said. He looked around to show Adam the clearing her lake sat in. _And she wants to speak to you._

 _Let her know I’m listening,_ the older vampire said. Wayne looked at the naiad and nodded. Spyridoula crossed her arms. 

“So you’re the one wanting to know about my Francis then,” she said, seeming to stand taller than her height would suggest. “First, tell me this, is he safe?”

“He’s injured, but alive,” Wayne relayed. Orion frowned. Xe had seen vampire’s use their progeny to relay messages before, but xe didn’t like watching it. However, Wayne glanced at xem and shook his head shortly. Adam wasn’t speaking through him, then, only to him. It but xem at ease. “The two of them took out a necromancer that attempted to kill the hunter.”

“This is why I did not want him with them, but no, he insisted,” the naiad said, throwing up her hands. Adam felt some faint amusement. It was clear where the hunter had picked up his own stubborn nature. “And now he’s caught the interest of a vampire. You do plan to at least keep him safe from the dragon, don’t you?”

Adam saw Wayne’s memories flash to the image of a man, but then they switched to a minotaur. It seemed the hunter really hadn’t been exaggerating the group. 

“He won’t come to harm with Adam,” Wayne said, copying his sire’s wording. The naiad studied him, then nodded. She turned, headed back to her pool.

“I am sending you back your whelp and his mate, vampire,” she said, a pillar of water raising over her head. “Facing a dragon, you will need them.”

Adam cut the connection to Wayne just as the water crashed over them. Next thing he knew, there was a knock at his back door. He wasn’t entirely surprised to find Wayne and Orion, wet from climbing out of the pool, standing there. Wayne offered a sheepish grin.

“Hey Adam, long time no see,” he said. Adam rolled his eyes, but moved aside for the two to enter. It was true that it had been some time since the two of them had met in person, and this wasn’t exactly how either of them figured it would happen next. Orion, not immune to the cold the way vampires were, swore under his breath in french as Wayne took it upon himself to commandeer the guest room. Adam didn’t mind, it’s where he would have put them anyways. 

Letting his unexpected guests get settled, Adam sat in the den and thought. There was a dragon making it’s way to Detroit after having two of it’s comrades killed. And it had killed an entire clan of hunters. Things were going to get dangerous very soon, and it was going to take more than just his progeny and an incubus to fix them. With a sigh, Adam called Sarif.


	4. Chapter 4

Francis Pritchard was used to this by now. He would never like it, but he was used to it. When he had told the van Bruggens about the necromancer, they had dismissed it. After all, if he, a bastard, could handle her, she couldn’t have been all that powerful. In a bid to make them understand, he had even brought up the vampire that had helped him. They apparently had fairly good relations with the local clan, but rather than making them more concerned about the looming threat, it had made them less. They had told him that if the Darrow clan was involved, things would resolve themselves. That the vampires kept the others in line. 

The hunter punched the wall. After his disappointing meeting with the van Bruggens, he had returned to his guest house. Damn him. He couldn’t get the vampire off his mind. Why was he so interested? What did he have to gain? What kind of game was he playing? Knowing now that the man was over four centuries old, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight. Not a fair one, anyways. And yet the vampire hadn’t seemed offended by his scathing tone or biting answers. If anything, he’d seemed amused. Just what made Jensen so different from other vampires?

Pritchard sighed, shaking his head. He packed up his things. It didn’t take long, given he hadn’t unpacked to begin with. This was no time to obsessing over things that weren’t relevant. He could puzzle out the vampire after taking care of the minotaur and dragon on their way. But he would be damned if he was just going to sit and wait for their attack. So, shouldering his large duffel and leaving an empty suitcase behind, he went to find a place to stakeout the estate.

Fortunately, there was a vacancy in a nearby, dilapidated apartment complex. The goblin at the desk had given him a once over, then shrugged and handed over the keys. Pritchard had paid in cash upfront, and set himself up in the room. It faced the estate, which suited him well. 

Geared up, he left to go to the nearest convenience store. He kept his hands in his pockets, watching the people around him as he went. Most didn’t seem to notice him. Occasionally prets would mark him as a hunter and avoid him. It was something new for him. In New Hampshire, he’d been half raised by preternaturals. So, while they knew he was a hunter, they also considered him one of them. It had had its advantages, such as prets coming to get help when something happened. But it had also had its disadvantages, such as the many who felt that by becoming a hunter he had betrayed his heritage. Pritchard could care less either way.

As it started to rain, the hunter looked up. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a hunter. He needed to be. It was a part of who he was, it was in his blood. He had never felt… complete, being on the outside. When the old head of the family had passed and the new one had decided to let him join the clan, he’d jumped on the chance. No one had been happy about the decision, though. His mother thought he was putting himself in unnecessary danger for a fight that wasn’t his. Especially since he had refused to continue learning about his naiad powers. There were certain things that came naturally; freezing water, moving it, and using it as a sensenet. Pritchard closed his eyes.

His mother had once called rain a naiad’s eyes. And she wasn’t wrong. Bound to her pool as she was, Spyridoula was only able to “see” what was going on outside when it rained. It was like a kind of radar, but at the same time more. He could not only sense who or what was nearby, but see them as well. As long as the rain could hit them, Pritchard could sense them. 

It seemed he’d picked up a tail. It was a vampire, but not Jensen. Pritchard opened his eyes, and resumed walking. He was tired, and would get something caffeinated in his system before confronting his tail. The vampire wasn’t as stealthy as Jensen; probably younger. The hunter didn’t need the rain to track his movements behind him. 

In the corner store, Pritchard bought two cases of energy drinks, some microwave meals, and a pack of cigarettes. Another habit his mother disapproved of. Why should water spirits want anything to do with fire? Sometimes, he kept it up just to spite her. Leaving the store, he took a route that led to a more secluded alley. Making sure his crossbow was ready, he turned to confront his tail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, and waited. Sure enough, the vampire peeled away from the nearby shadows with his hands up and a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, wearing dark aviator glasses. It was by far less posh or at the very least dramatic than most vampires. “Who are you?”

“Adam said you were sharp,” the vampire said instead. “I’m Wayne, Wayne Haas.”

“And I take it Jensen’s the one that asked you to follow me?” Pritchard asked drily. Really, what was the vampire’s fixation with him? Wayne let his hands drop, putting them in his pockets.

“More or less,” the vampire said. He, too, seemed amused by the hunter. Pritchard didn’t like it. 

“Why?” he asked, crossing his arms. Wayne snorted, then tried to cover it with a cough.

“Who knows?” the vampire said. “Maybe he likes you.”

“I highly doubt that,” Pritchard said, raising a brow. Wayne shrugged. 

“Just a thought,” he said. “I mean, when he asked me to keep an eye on you, he said it was because he thought you might do something stupid and get yourself killed.”

“How very thoughtful of him,” Pritchard said, rolling his eyes. He walked past the younger vampire, headed back to his rented apartment. “I suppose there’s no getting rid of you?”

“No such luck,” Wayne said. “I’ll try not to be a bother.”

“See that you do,” Pritchard said, walking on. Wayne chuckled and shook his head. He could see what had his sire so worked up. Not many people stood up to Adam, especially if they didn’t have some assurance of protection against him. The hunter didn’t seem to have any such reservations. It was rare and probably refreshing. Wayne didn’t yet have the age to command the respect and fear Adam did, so he couldn’t say for sure. But he did continue to tail the hunter as unobtrusively as possible.

Pritchard paused. He was sensing another pret, this one familiar to him. He ducked into another alley, then turned. A shade separated itself from the shadows against the wall. Shades were wraithes which had achieved consciousness. Most were very cautious, shy of physical beings. Especially given the attitude towards wraithes in general. Shades, on the other hand, were typically very useful, as they tended to eat wraithes and nightmares. Cruel as the former may seem, it was natural among them.

~Hey, Frank,~ the shade signed. While possessed of vocal chords, speech was outside the realm of shade abilities.

~Daryl, what are you doing here?~ Frank signed back. He wasn’t much for letting the vampire know about his preternatural associates. He would no doubt report it back to Jensen.

~Your mother is worried,~ Daryl replied. ~She’s asked the whole gang to come out.~

~Wonderful,~ Frank sighed, rolling his eyes. Daryl made a sound like tires over gravel, its equivalent of a laugh. ~Are you the first then?~

~I was the closest by,~ the shade replied. ~Cristian and Christophe are on their way, and Jedidah said she was coming, too. Not sure about Fergal.~

~Thanks for the warning,~ Pritchard said. ~The local hunters give you any trouble?~

The shade laughed.

~They’d have to sense me first,~ it replied. The hunter smiled in spite of himself. Hunters, through years of training and breeding, had developed a sort of sixth sense in the presence of preternaturals. Of course, not all of them properly executed it. 

~Well, keep safe,~ the hunter said. ~I’m going to be up all night watching the von Bruggen estate.~

~They didn’t take you seriously, did they?~ the shade asked. Pritchard sighed, rolling his eyes again, which was answer enough. ~By the way, who’s your tail?~

~Oh, him,~ Frank said. ~There’s a local vampire that seems to have taken an interest in me for some reason. Not the one following me now, but he was asked to ‘keep an eye’ on me by the other one.~

~Names?~ Daryl asked. 

~The one following me now introduced himself as Wayne Haas,~ Frank said. ~The other is Adam Jensen.~

~Oh, Wayne’s a good guy,~ Daryl said. ~His mate is an incubus friend of mine.~

~Know his relationship to Jensen?~ the hunter asked. The shade made a clicking noise to indicate he was thinking.

~I think he said someone named Adam was his sire,~ he said. ~We only met a couple times, most of what I know is from Orion.~

~His mate?~ Frank asked. The shade nodded. Then it laughed.

~So, what did you do to attract a vampire?~ it asked. 

~Hell if I know,~ Pritchard said. ~You know me, I don’t exactly play nice.~

~True enough,~ the shade said. ~Well, I’ll be nearby if you need me. Good luck.~

~Thanks, you too,~ the hunter said, and the two parted ways. It wasn’t long after the hunter had started walking back that Daryl made itself known to Wayne.

~Hey, Wayne,~ it said. The vampire paused. 

“Daryl, right?” he asked, not very good at signing himself.. The shade chuckled, and took its time while signing.

~Right,~ it said. ~Heard you were tailing Frank for your sire?~

“More or less,” the vampire agreed. 

~Why’s your sire so interested in him?~ the shade asked. Wayne scratched the back of his head, then shrugged.

“Promise to keep it to yourself?” he asked. The shade nodded. “The hunter has his blood stirring.”

~Seriously?~ the shade asked, laughing. The sound unnerved Wayne, who was not accustomed to shades. The vampire nodded. 

“He hasn’t told the hunter yet, and I don’t think he really wants it spread around,” he added. Daryl nodded.

~I can understand why. Thanks for your candor,~ it said. ~Good luck keeping an eye on Frank. He isn’t one to sit on the sidelines.~

“So I’ve heard,” Wayne said. With a wave, Daryl slipped into the shadows. Wayne resumed following the hunter, wondering what his connection to the shade was. They had signed too fast for him to follow during their conversation. The vampire shook his head. Adam needed to be more honest with the hunter, before things got too intense. Otherwise, his sire was going to lose control at an inopportune moment, or heaven forbid lose his head in battle and go berserk. If that happened, it would take hours for his sire to calm down, and in the interim he’d work off pure instinct. Which would include going after the hunter.

With a sigh, Wayne continued following the hunter. 

 

Back at his house, Adam had just finished explaining the situation to his sire. Sarif drummed his fingers on a chair, thinking. Adam sat across from him, waiting. Orion was in the room as well, leaning against the mantle to the fireplace. Adam had also told his sire about his progeny and his incubus mate. 

“Dragons are very powerful, Adam,” Sarif said at last. “While I’m glad we won’t have to face a dragon and a minotaur and a necromancer all at once, dragons are still very dangerous beasts to deal with.”

“I know,” Adam replied. 

“I’m glad you called me, son,” Sarif said. His mouth quirked into a half smile. “I’m not exactly happy that you chose to hide your progeny, but I can see you had your reasons.”

The older vampire looked over at the incubus. Sarif wore small, circular sunglasses, so it was relatively easy to tack his eye movements behind them. For xyr part, Orion acted nonplussed, examining the pictures and knick knacks on the mantle. Sarif looked back to his progeny. 

“So, let’s get down to business” he said, leaning forward. “Neither of your siblings are close enough to help, but Faridah could make an appeal to her pack leader. The von Bruggens may not move, but it seems your hunter is a prime target.”

“He’s not-” Adam started, but Sarif held up a hand. 

“We don’t have time for semantics, Adam,” he said. The younger vampire remained silent. Orion, not yet having seen Adam interact with his sire watched with interest. “So, there’s the two of us, your progeny, an incubus, a hunter, and possibly a wolf pack.”

“The odds aren’t good,” Adam admitted. Sarif nodded. 

“We need more allies. I’ll see who’s in the area. If he really intends to attack the von Bruggens, then that’s where we need to focus our attention,” he said. 

“Wayne’s over there all ready,” Adam said. “I plan to switch places with him at dawn.”

“You do that, and contact me as soon as anything happens, night or day,” Sarif said, standing. Adam stood as well, walking with his sire to the door. “I just wish we had more time.”

“You and me both, Boss,” the younger vampire said, opening the door for his sire. Sarif nodded to him, then glanced at Orion again before leaving.

“So tha’s your sire?” the incubus asked after Adam had closed the door.

“Yeah,” the vampire replied, checking the time. It was already approaching dawn. He grabbed his coat pulling it on.

“I see where ya get it from,” Orion said. 

“Get what from?” Adam asked. 

“Kindness,” the incubus said, causing the vampire to stop and stare at xem. “It’s the one thing most vampires lack.”

“I suppose so,” Adam said. “Not sure how kind I would consider the boss.”

“Oh he’s not all that kind,” Orion agreed. The incubus smiled. “Mind if I asked why he turned you?”

“... because there was something I needed to do,” Adam said, and left. Orion pouted. 

“Stingy,” he said.

 

Across town, Adam found Wayne on the street. His progeny yawned as he walked up.

“He moved to an apartment across the street,” Wayne said, pointing out the window where the hunter was watching the von Bruggen estate from. 

“Thanks, Wayne,” Adam said. “Anything else?”

“Well,” the younger vampire said and Adam looked at him. “He met with a shade. Not sure what they were talking about, they were signing too fast for me.”

“You should work on that,” Adam replied, but not unkindly. “Anything else?”

“Nah, that’s all,” Wayne said. Adam nodded.

“Thanks again, go get some rest,” he said. Wayne nodded, and waved as he left. Adam moved from street level to the rooftops. He wasn’t sure why, he just happened to be more comfortable there. It let him see things from a different, wider perspective. He settled in, watching as the sun rose.

He made no effort to hide himself from the growing light. He sighed. This was the ability that had caused his split from Megan. When he’d found out that her original reason for getting to know him was to study his daywalker talent. 

No one was sure what caused him to become a daywalker. Even he had no idea. But it was a skill he didn’t divulge lightly. For one thing, it gave him a definite edge in battle when his opponent thought they could wait him out. For another, it attracted the wrong kind of attention. Such as witches that wanted to figure out the skill and possibly find a way to give it to all vampires.

It wasn’t her plans that had bothered Adam. He knew plenty of vampires that missed sunlight almost painfully. If he could somehow help them see a day again, he would have helped gladly. But Megan had never asked. She’d studied while they were in relationship, and by the end Adam hadn’t known if any of it had been real. So he’d said goodbye to her let her puzzle out her research without him.

Maybe that was what he liked about the hunter, Adam mused. That the man was entirely straightforward. He could still see the man, at the window. It didn’t look like he’d slept. Was probably trying to stakeout the estate which while a good idea, would only be a detriment to his readiness in the end. Frowning, Adam considered. Finally, he sighed, and jumped from rooftop to rooftop until he could climb down the fire escape on the building. 

The hunter jumped back from the window in surprise when Adam stepped in front of it. The vampire knocked, and the still baffled hunter opened the window.

“You’re a daywalker?” he asked as soon as it was open.

“I’m just full of surprises,” the vampire replied, which caused the hunter to glare. 

“What is it you want, Jensen? I’m busy,” he said, crossing his arms. Adam raised a brow, noting the spare room and copious amounts of energy drinks. 

“So I can see,” the vampire said. “You’d do better to get some sleep than stay up watching the estate.”

“Well if the von Bruggens cared to take me seriously, perhaps I could,” the hunter replied. “As it stands, they are content to hole up in their estate and let you and yours take care of the situation.”

“Not surprising,” Adam said. He couldn’t enter the apartment without permission, and the hunter knew it. So he stayed on the fire escape, and looked back at the estate. “It’s how they usually operate.”

“Which is asinine,” Pritchard said. Adam turned back to look at the hunter. He had shades on again, so he could look eye to eye without consequences. “They’re hunters. Keeping things in order is supposed to be their job.”

“Working on a lack of sleep isn’t going to get you very far,” Adam replied. Frank snorted.

“And I suppose you’re going to offer to watch the estate while I sleep?” he asked. Adam shrugged.

“Why not?” he said. “It’s not like I need sleep.”

“I’ll tell you why not,” Pritchard said. “I don’t even know you. You’re a vampire, I’m a hunter. Exactly how am I supposed to trust you?”

“Have I given you a reason not to?” Adam asked. 

“That’s besides the point!” the hunter said. Adam raised a brow, and Pritchard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I… appreciate the offer to help, but this is my fight.”

“You plan to take on a dragon alone?” the vampire asked, shock evident in his voice.

“If that’s what it takes,” the hunter replied.

“That’s moronic!” Adam declared, earning himself a startled glare. “I wouldn’t take on a dragon alone, and I’m considerably more well equipped to do so.”

“I can handle myself-”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Francis,” Adam said. The hunter looked like he’d been slapped. “I saw you fight the necromancer, and I believe you when you say you took out a nest of wraithes. I’m not offering to help you because I think you’re incompetent. I’m offering to help because this isn’t something you can do alone.”

“... how did you know my name?” the hunter asked at last, quietly. 

“A conversation with your mother,” Adam said. The hunter frowned, and seemed to be having conflicting thoughts. 

“Then you know I’m-” Pritchard said, but stopped. Adam raised a brow. 

“That you’re half naiad?” he prompted. The hunter nodded. The vampire shrugged. “What of it?”

“You…” Frank looked, if possible, more surprised. “You don’t care?”

“Why should I?” the vampire asked. On the one hand, he was losing patience. But on the other, he was glad to be having a real conversation with the hunter. It was a start. Besides, it wasn’t like he could come out and say ‘I want to drive you so crazy with pleasure you don’t remember your own name’. Well, he could, but he didn’t think it would make a good impression.

“I… ugh, fine, come in,” the hunter said, getting up and moving his chair away from the window. Adam entered the apartment cautiously, closing the window behind him. The hunter sat down on the bed. It was a small apartment, the only separate room being the bathroom. “I’m only doing this because I’m too tired to keep arguing with you, Jensen.”

“Understood,” Adam said moving the chair back to the window and taking a seat. Without even taking his shoes off, the hunter gave him another glare before laying down, turning his back on the vampire. For all the man claimed not to trust him, he didn’t act that way. 

“And for the record, I prefer Frank,” the hunter said. Adam felt himself smile.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he said. “Francis.”

The hunter made a noise of frustration, but said no more. It wasn’t long before the man had fallen asleep. Adam took a deep breath. The hunter wasn’t masking his scent, and it filled the small space. It had a converse effect of calming the vampire. He was still too full of blood to want to drink, but that wouldn’t last long. Fortunately, he just had to get through one day. 

With a soft sigh, Adam wondered if he was really just a masochist.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why, but this chapter was somehow super easy to write. also, here's a pic of christophe and cristian i did a while back for anyone that's curious: http://sbdrag.tumblr.com/post/117463701957/cristian-left-and-christophe-two-of-my-old-ocs-i

It wasn’t very often that shades made friends. Then again, with this group, there were a lot of unusual things. Daryl supposed he’d really just been drawn in because he was friends with Frank, and therefore the others were more friends by extension than choice, but it didn’t really matter in any case. Jumping out in front of an empath suddenly was still, however, very rewarding.

“Hey Daryl!” Cristian said brightly, waving as his boyfriend jumped behind him. Daryl laughed, and Christophe glared at him around the tall, brown skinned redhead. Empaths and shades seldom made friends, mainly due to the nature of the former.

~Hello, Red,~ the shade signed back. 

“Any sign of our boy yet?” the werejackal asked, putting an arm back against the empath. It worked as an emotional shield, blocking off Daryl’s negative energy with positive energy. Cristian was by far the oldest member of the group, and while something of a rebel in his own right, also had a tendency to play everyone’s big brother.

~Met with him last night,~ the shade said. It was approaching afternoon now, with no sign of the dragon yet. ~Stayed close, but he’s in good hands.~

“Oh?” Cristian asked, interest peaked. Before he and Christophe had started dating, the man had been an irascible playboy. While he was still a flirt, he now entertained himself with his friends’ love lives, rather than his own.

~Seems he has a vampire interested in him,~ the shade replied.

“Oh, I’m sure Frank just loves that,” Christophe muttered. He was actually the youngest member of the group, mainly brought in after he’d started dating Cristian. He fit in oddly well; the second cynic to temper the other optimists in the group. Daryl laughed. 

“Anyone we know?” Cristian asked. The shade affected a shrug.

~Adam Jensen ring a bell?~ it asked. Cristian snorted, immediately covering his mouth to hold in a laugh. ~I take it that’s a yes.~

“Oh yeah, I met him before he was turned,” the werejackal said. “So I was, you know, on hand to help him transition into our world.”

“How fortunate for him,” Christophe said, rolling his eyes. Cristian grinned back at him, and the young man smiled back, albeit thinly.

~Well, around dawn the vampire was invited into his apartment,~ the shade said. Cristian and Christophe stared for a moment. Then the werejackal broke into a huge grin, while the empath face palmed.

“This is so not going to end well…” Christophe said. Cristian laughed.

“Are you kidding? This is fantastic!” he said, turning to face his boyfriend and throw his arms up enthusiastically. Christophe glared at him.

“In what way is this fantastic?” the empath asked. “For a vampire to be that interested in him that quickly-”

“His blood must be stirring!” Cristian finished triumphantly. 

“-which is a good thing how?” Christophe replied. “Frank never encountered many vampires, I doubt he even realizes what’s going on.”

“But that’s the best part!” Cristian argued, putting his hands on the empath’s shoulders. “If Frank knew, he would have probably left town!”

“... I can’t argue with that,” Christophe said. “But I still don’t understand how this won’t end badly.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve never met a vampire like Adam,” Cristian replied, turning back to face Daryl. The shade was chuckling quietly. 

~Is there something special about him?~ it asked. Cristian laughed.

“He’s just… very different,” he said, shrugging. “It’s hard to explain.”

~I’ll take your word for it,~ the shade said. ~Anyway, want me to take you to see Frank?~

“Yes!”

“No.”

The werejackal and empath had spoken at the same time, and Christophe glared up at his boyfriend.

“You know Frank isn’t going to want to see us if he’s in a compromising position,” the empath said. 

“But that’s the fun part,” Cristian replied. Christophe glared a little longer, then sighed, resigned.

“Fine. Be that way. See if I care,” he said. Which really meant he knew he was going to lose. Daryl laughed, then started leading the way. 

 

Pritchard woke on his own sometime in the late afternoon. He had a moment of panic, forgetting where he was as he sat straight up in bed, heart racing. 

“Alright there, Francis?” Adam drawled from the window. He had his feet up on the ledge, leaning back so his chair rested on two legs. The hunter glared in his direction. 

“Just fine,” he said, rubbing the vestiges of sleep from his eyes. “Any sign of the dragon?”

“Not yet,” Adam said, letting his feet drop and the chair land on four legs. He needed to get out of this room, and quickly. The hunter’s scent was driving him mad, like an itch just out of reach. He felt like he could practically taste it at this point, which given his meager sampling of the man’s blood before, was only driving the point home. 

Frank stood. He felt stiff, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to stretch in the vampire’s presence. His clothes felt uncomfortably confining; he really should have at least taken off his shoes and jacket. Oh well, it was too late for that now. He walked over to the window, and Jensen moved out of the way. The van Bruggen estate looked much unchanged. Pritchard doubted they even noticed he’d left. Then something caught his eye and he looked down. 

Cristian, Christophe and Daryl stood talking against a nearby building. It was the empath that seemed to sense the hunter’s gaze, and looked up and waved. Noticing this, Cristian also turned and waved, grinning. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes. He glanced over at Adam. The vampire was idly studying the room, but he seemed tense. With another sigh the hunter left the window.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing his gear and heading to the door. “I’ll introduce you to some friends of mine.”

“You have friends?” Jensen asked, arching a brow. Frank glared at him, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Funny, I would ask you the same question,” he said. The vampire gave him a half smile, following as he left the apartment. It didn’t take them long to make it to street level, where Cristian promptly half tackled the vampire.

“Adam! Long time no see!” he declared happily. Jensen frowned at him, and for once, Frank found himself amused by the werejackal’s antics. 

“Cristian. I see you haven’t changed,” Adam said, trying to dislodge the enthusiastic man. It was Christophe that came to his aide, however, pulling the werejackal back by his long ponytail. 

“I’d apologize for him, but it seems you’ve already met,” the empath said. He held out a gloved hand. “Christophe.”

“Adam,” the vampire said, shaking. He scented the unfamiliar man; there was something… heavy, about his scent. It reminded the vampire of decaying fruit, but it was overlayed with very human scents of gardenias, fresh baking and a hint of musk. Very homey, comforting scents. “Empath?”

“Picked that up?” Christophe asked with mild surprise, returning his hand to his pocket. Except for his face, his clothing covered every inch of skin. It was something strong empaths usually did as a buffer.

“Educated guess,” the vampire replied. His gaze flicked to the last member of the little group, a shade. The shadowy being laughed in response to his scrutiny. 

~Daryl,~ it signed. ~A pleasure to make your acquaintance.~

~Nice to meet you too,~ the vampire signed back, body language clearly implying his sarcasm. The shade laughed again. It was Christophe that got back on track.

“So, what’s the situation so far?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking to Frank. The hunter sighed.

“The van Bruggens didn’t take my warning seriously,” he said. Then he looked at Adam. “And they seem content to let the local vampire clan take care of things.”

“Once a guardsman, always a guardsman, eh?” Cristian asked, slinging an arm over the vampire’s shoulders. Adam rolled his eyes.

“That was centuries ago,” he replied. Cristian laughed.

“Yeah? How many times have you been a cop since then?” he asked, grinning. Adam opened his mouth to reply, then paused, considering. 

“Twelve,” he said, finally. Cristian rolled his eyes, backing off. 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he said. He leaned against the wall, and Christophe ended up on his other side, so the werejackal was between him and Daryl. Adam considered that a moment; in all the time he had known Cristian, the man had never been monogamous. It seemed, however, that things had changed. 

“Anyway,” Frank said, changing the subject. “So far, I have no plan of action.”

“That’s new for you,” Christophe said. Frank frowned.

“I know, and I don’t like it,” the hunter said. 

~It’s hard to plan for something new,~ Daryl signed, which, while true wasn’t helpful. ~Besides, Jedidah is still on her way.~

“Who’s that?” Adam asked. 

“Exiled fae princess,” Cristian replied. “Dabbled in shadow magic too much.”

“That’s comforting,” the vampire said, frowning. 

“She’s stable,” Frank replied, although he had his own reservations about the woman. He could never really fear her, however, given she’d been like a second mother to him. As odd as that had been. “Besides, we need all the help we can get.”

Adam arched a brow, but said no more. The hunter was right, but it was a far cry from his earlier assertion that he would fight the dragon alone if need be. The vampire was pretty sure he still stood by that promise, even if he was willing to let others help.

“So, what do you have on your side?” Cristian asked. 

“Boss said he’d help,” Adam said. “His current mate is a werewolf; she’s going to appeal to her clan. I have my progeny here, and his mate is an incubus.”

“Three vampires, an incubus, a possible wolfpack, an exiled fae princess, an empath, a shade, a werejackal, and a hunter,” Christophe said. “Well, they aren’t terrible odds, I guess.”

“Still not very good ones,” Adam replied. They all jumped as Pritchard’s cellphone went off. The hunter pulled it out, looked at the call ID, then frowned as he answered.

“Who is this?” he asked by way of greeting. The person on the other end spoke, and the hunter grew more irritated, putting the phone down and frowning at it, then glaring at Adam like whatever it was was his fault. He held out the phone. “It’s for you.”

“You still don’t carry a cell?” Cristian asked, laughing. Adam glared at him sidelong, but accepted the phone and dubiously held it to his ear.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Adam, it’s David,” his sire said on the other end.

“Boss,” Adam said, half turning away from the group. “What is it?”

“Faridah’s alpha has agreed to help us. We’re going to meet at your manor to hash out the details,” Sarif said. 

“Got it. Looks like we’ll have more help than we expected,” Adam said, glancing at the others. 

“Good. Bring them around, and we’ll work things out in person,” his sire replied. “By the way, how are things with the hunter going?”

“I’ll do that,” Adam said, ignoring the second question. He was sure Sarif and Cristian would have plenty of time to gossip about that once they saw each other in person. “Anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” Sarif said, nonplussed. “See you within the hour.”

The older vampire hung up, and Adam handed back the hunter’s cell phone. 

“Looks like we’re all meeting up at my place,” Jensen said. Frank arched a brow, but said nothing. 

“Oh, is it far?” Cristian asked. Adam looked at him. “We’ve been on the road most of the day. Put my bike up in a garage once we hit city limits.”

“It’s not far,” the vampire said. 

“Then let’s get moving,” Frank said. “There’s no time to lose.”

Adam held back a sigh. Was his sire trying to force the issue? It was a definite possibility. Having the hunter in his space was going to wreak havoc with his self control, but it couldn’t be helped. As the vampire turned to lead the way, he noticed Cristian giving him a knowing smirk. So he’d figured that much out. Adam chose not to acknowledge the look, walking on. Pritchard followed, a few steps behind, and Daryl zipped from shadow to shadow. Cristian and Christophe trailed behind, to speak without the hunter hearing them.

“He’s got it bad,” the werejackal said, knowing the vampire could hear him. Adam ignored him, resolutely looking ahead.

“That’s not a good thing,” Christophe reminded him. He was watching the vampire and hunter both. Cristian noticed.

“Sensing something you weren’t expecting, mon mignon?” he asked. Christophe sighed.

“Something like that,” he said. He also knew the vampire could hear them, and chose not to reveal what it was he sensed. Cristian left it at that, and the two were quiet for the remainder of the walk. 

Adam let the others walk into his manor first. Pritchard looked around with a disinterested air, wandering into the sitting room with the large fireplace. Orion and Wayne were there already, and at the hunter’s entrance, the vampire stood in surprise. He looked at Adam at the door, who gave him a warning look. His progeny took out his sunglasses, putting them on as the others filed in, and Adam shut the door behind them. Sarif wasn’t there yet, nor were the others, it seemed. 

“You must be Adam’s progeny,” Cristian said, bounding up to the vampire easily. Wayne jumped in surprise, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Wayne,” he said, holding out a hand to shake. Cristian took it in both of his, smiling as he shook. 

“Cristian,” he said, and was about to say more when he was interrupted.

“And, before ya say more, he’s mine,” Orion said, surprising xyr mate by wrapping xyr arms around him and pulling him back. Cristian chuckled.

“Orion, been a while,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Then he made a noise of surprise as Christophe pulled him back by his hair.

“I think that’s enough from you,” he said. He stepped forward. “Christophe.”

“Orion,” the incubus said, amused but not releasing his hold on his mate. 

Meanwhile, Frank examined the picture above the mantle. Adam stepped next to him. 

“A little vain, Jensen?” the man asked. The vampire looked up at the picture. It was an older painting, and it was clear he was the model for the nearly naked man being surrounded by physicians.

“One of the works of my past mates,” the vampire said. Frank glanced at him sideways. 

“You have something from all of them?” he asked. Adam shrugged.

“More or less. Most of them were artist of one kind or another. I was often their patron,” he said. The hunter looked at him a moment longer, then back at the painting. 

“Were you usually the subject of their work?” he asked. 

“Often, but not always,” Adam replied. It was odd, he thought, how easy the conversation was. He’d been having such a hard time coming up with things to say, and yet this was just… natural. “All I asked was that none of them named me in their works. They agreed.”

“Didn’t want people drawing a connection?” Frank asked. Adam nodded. 

“It’s generally considered poor form,” he said. “Makes it easier for hunters to track us, too.”

“Oh? Have you done anything a hunter would track you down for?” Pritchard asked. Adam shrugged.

“In this world, it’s not always possible to keep your hands clean,” he said. He looked over at the hunter. The man was watching him carefully, which made the vampire’s fangs lengthen suddenly. “Excuse me.”

The vampire left, carefully pacing himself as he went into the kitchen to get himself some blood. The hunter shrugged, and took a seat to wait. 

“You gonna tell him?” Cristian asked, leaning on the door frame just as Adam’s blood finished heating.

“Eventually,” the vampire replied, choking it down. The werejackal raised a brow. 

“I don’t think you have eventually,” he said. Adam shot him a look, but said nothing, preparing more blood. “Not if you have to gorge yourself just to keep in control.”

“It’s not that bad yet,” the vampire said. “I’m just being preemptive.”

“Uh huh, you also like to live in denial,” Cristian replied. Then, cocking an ear, he switched to French. “Vous aimez tester vos limites, Adam.”

“Je ne essaie pas de tester mes limites,” the vampire replied. “Je ne veux pas le forcer à quoi que ce soit.”

“Vous êtes à court de temps pour que cela se produise,” Cristian countered. “Dites-lui ce qui se passe.”

“Cristian-” Adam started, turning to look at the werejackal. The other man stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Il est plus ouverts d'esprit que vous ne le pensez,” he said. He patted the vampire’s shoulder, then returned to the other room.

During that conversation, Christophe had taken a seat near Frank. Wayne and Orion stuck to one corner of the room, and so the empath chose to sign.

~You do realize he’s likes you, right?~ he asked. Frank snorted, then stopped. He tilted his head.

~Wait, he does?~ he replied. Christophe rolled his eyes.

~You have no idea,~ he said. Frank frowned, but he’d known Christophe long enough to know that the man didn’t lie. 

~What of it? It’s not like I like him,~ he said. Christophe gave him a look. Frank held out his hands.

~You can’t lie to me about your feelings, Frank,~ he said. ~I’m an empath, remember?~

~I’m not lying, the man is insufferable,~ Pritchard replied. Christophe rolled his eyes.

~Then you’re lying to yourself,~ he signed. ~You like him.~

~Let’s say I did like him,~ Frank said. ~What then?~

~Tell him,~ Christophe said. 

~No,~ Frank signed, with feeling. Christophe sighed theatrically, which caused the other two in the room to look over. Frank glanced at them, then back at the empath. ~Where would that get me, anyways? I still don’t even know him, and I’m trying to court a bride from the van Bruggens.~

~You don’t owe anything to the Pritchards,~ Christophe said. ~You’ve been forcing yourself to be what they wanted you to be and for what? They still don’t think of you as one of them, and the van Bruggens probably treat you like a joke. Why don’t you just do something that makes you happy for once?~

The hunter didn’t get a chance to reply before there was a knock on the door. Cristian sauntered back into the room, sitting next to Christophe and throwing an arm over his shoulders as Adam answered the door. 

“Boss,” he said, letting his sire into the room. 

“Hey David!” Cristian called cheerfully, waving as the man entered the room. 

“Cristian! Good to see you! How have you been?” he asked, noting Christophe and the others in the room. Wayne stood awkwardly, unsure what to do with himself. It was the first time he had met his grandsire. Sarif looked at him, then motioned for him to sit back down. Wayne did so, and went unnoticed as several werewolves piled into the room as well. 

“Oh, you know, same ol- Fergal! So here’s where you’ve been!” the werejackal said, noticing a large, redheaded brute of a man entering the room.

“Ah, aye. Set meself up well, got a pack an' al' dat,” he said, speaking with an Irish accent. One of his eyes were scarred shut, but the other smiled in a way that didn’t reach his mouth as he looked at Frank. “Oi shud 'av guessed yer were de wan behind al' de trouble.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” the hunter asked, frowning. The werewolf alpha held up his hands.

“Nathin' personal, but you're jist a magnet for de unusual,” he said. Frank rolled his eyes while Cristian laughed. “Oi take it Jedidah an' Daryl are on their way den?”

“Daryl’s here somewhere,” Christophe replied offhand. “He’s hiding himself, though.”

“Tricky bugger, dat wan,” Fergal replied. “Anyways, oi 'ere thar's a dragon dat needs dealin' wi'?”

“Indeed there is,” Sarif said. He’d moved the stand in front of the fireplace. He’d been watching the group with interest, but none as much as the hunter that had caught his progeny’s attention. Now they all turned to him. The room was crowded with the addition of the werewolves. There were seven in Fergal’s pack, but the room wasn’t terribly spacious to begin with. Adam stepped in and leaned against a wall in the back, watching. “He’s already taken out a hunter clan-”

“What?” Pritchard said, jumping to his feet. The blood had drained from his face. Sarif looked at Adam. His progeny moved quickly, taking the hunter by the arm and towing him out of the room forcefully. Apparently, no one had informed him of the demise of his clan. Even his friends looked at each other guiltily. Fergal, for his part, picked at his teeth with a sharp nail, but eyed the pair as they left.

“When did it happen?” Pritchard demanded, turning on the vampire as Adam let go of his arm and shut the door to a side room. It was a flimsy shield against the hearing of werebeasts and vampires, but it would have to do. 

“Yesterday night,” Adam said, facing the hunter. The man was glaring now, accusing.

“And you knew?” he asked, though it wasn’t much of a question. 

“I figured one of your friends had told you,” the vampire said. “Wayne told me you met with a shade before.”

“You knew before that though, didn’t you?” the hunter asked. Adam frowned. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes, I knew,” he said. The hunter grabbed the front his coat, but it did little to move the vampire.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he demanded, eyes blazing. Adam tried not to breathe too deeply. This proximity, combined with the hunter’s agitation causing his scent to roll off him more heavily, was not a good combination.

“Would you have listened?” the vampire asked, forcing himself to stand still. The hunter ground his teeth, then let go with a little, vain shove.

“Were there… were there any survivors?” he asked, clearly trying to stay angry as he thought about it. Adam sighed, looking away.

“None that I know of,” he said. Pritchard nodded, crossing his arms. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He was it. He was the last one. The last Pritchard. 

The thought brought him this knees. What a joke. He clenched his hands, trying to hold himself together by sheer force of will. All of them were dead. He, the bastard, the halfling, was the last hunter of the once mighty Pritchard clan. Adam turned, walking to the door. Pritchard was crying in spite of himself.

“Take as long as you need,” the vampire said. The hunter made no reply, and the vampire walked out, shutting the door softly behind himself. He paused a moment, taking a deep breath and shutting his eyes. He could still hear the hunter, his hitched breathing, refusing to make a sound while he cried. 

Opening his eyes, the vampire returned to the sitting room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Cristian's conversation:
> 
> "You like to test your limits, Adam."
> 
> "I'm not testing my limits. I just don't want to force him into anything."
> 
> "You're running out of time for that. Tell him what's going on."
> 
> "Cristian-"
> 
> "He's more open-minded than you'd think."


	6. Chapter 6

Fergal was, by all means, a large man. Towering at six foot six inches, he had a tendency to dominate a room without much effort. Combined with his shock of red hair, muscular frame and the scarred left side of his face, he was a magnet for attention. It was why, as Sarif spoke, he stood in the back of the room. It was also why he was the first to notice Adam reenter the room. Alone.

The alpha had figured Frank would take the destruction of his clan hard. There was hardly a man that wouldn’t. They had been self centered assholes, but they were still his pack. Fergal could understand that all too well. The thought made him scratch at his scars, remembering. He hadn’t always been an alpha, after all.

It was, of course, Christophe who first noticed the werewolf’s change in mood. The young man turned to look back at him. With his good eye, Fergal flicked a glance at Jensen. Christophe took the hint, his odd, blue and pink eyes taking in the vampire before looking back at the alpha. It would be hard for him to tell what the vampire was feeling; Christophe was a very powerful empath, but vampires had a natural resistance to being read. 

So the black haired man none too gently elbowed his boyfriend in the side, causing the werejackal to start and look at him in surprise. The empath jerked his head back, and Cristian looked behind until he spotted Adam. With a frown, the man rose and left the room.

Christophe, while being an empath, was rather poor at dealing with other people’s emotions. Just because he could sense them didn’t mean he knew what to do to help them. Cristian, on the other hand, was very good at comforting and consoling. His problem was more along the lines of recognizing other people’s feelings. It made the pair a very complimentary couple, all things considered. 

And so it was Cristian that tracked down the hunter and found him much as Adam had left him. The werejackal entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him. He walked over and sat down next to Frank, and slung an arm over his shoulder. He pulled the hunter against him gently, but didn’t say anything. For once, Cristian wasn’t smiling. He did, however, reflect upon some things.

He knew why Adam had left the room. He would feel like he was intruding on something. He also thought he was a poor hand at comforting people, regardless of the truth. That and his waning self control meant leaving the room was probably the best thing he could have done for the hunter at this point. Cristian sighed as Frank finally seemed to acknowledge his presence, and leaned back into him. 

Meanwhile, Christophe began fidgeting in his seat. Without Cristian, he had no positive buffer against the rest of the room. He crossed his arms, willing himself to stay still. But, with a torrid of rising tempers and emotions, that was a difficult task. 

“Faridah,” Fergal said, softly. The youngest member of his pack quickly bounded to his side. The alpha indicated the now empty spot on the couch. “Go ‘av a sate.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, softly, as not to disturb Sarif’s lecture. She moved with a werewolf’s natural lithe, and slid into the seat next to the empath. Christophe was surprised a moment, then let out a sigh of relief. The woman was full of positive energy, and while not as effective as Cristian, acted as a buffer just as well. The empath shot a grateful look back at Fergal, who nodded shortly. 

Adam had been noting these small exchanges while he listened. If he wanted a relationship with the hunter, at some point, he would have to get to know his friends. Cristian he knew, and it had made sense to him that the werejackal had left. But he didn’t know Christophe, or the werewolf alpha, Fergal. Or the shade that was in a corner of the ceiling. He knew there was also a fae princess on her way, and he wondered not for the first time how the little group had managed to meet.

While all this had been going on, Sarif had been sharing his knowledge about dragons.

“As dragons have become very rare these days, humor me as I share what I know about them. They live to great ages, and the larger their dragon form, the older and more powerful they are. They have an awesome command of magic, and it is their tongue that wizards, witches and all other magic users derived their spell languages from. Their scales are impervious to magical attack and highly resistant to physical force, and their fangs are strong enough to cut through steel. 

Most dragons are relatively peaceful, and will only attack when sufficiently provoked. In this day and age, many dragons choose to live in human form, to more easily avoid detection. There are even theories that suggests human magic users only have the ability to use magic because of having dragon blood, but there is no way to prove this. 

In any case, we know this dragon is not peaceful, and on the offensive. This gives us only one real advantage. That is, we are not fighting a dragon in its lair. 

When I say this is our only advantage, I mean it wholeheartedly. You heard my explanation of their defenses; I was by no means exaggerating. Older dragons have been known to destroy entire armies before being taken down themselves. If, indeed, they were killed at all. Many will live through such an encounter, and simply move to a less crowded home. Taking down a dragon requires no small amount of skill and cunning, which is why we have such a group as this involved. 

What I propose as our plan is an ambush. Adam helped kill one of his group, and his progeny helped kill the other. He’ll want revenge for that. We can use them to lead the dragon into a trap of our own design. We need it to be a small space, somewhere the dragon can’t maneuver easily in its true form. In this case, it may chose to take human form. That will make him vulnerable.

While in human form, the dragon will still be a master of magic, so don’t underestimate him. Fergal, my hope is that your pack will be on hand to harass him, acting as a distraction during the fight. I don’t want anyone to take him head on; that would be suicide. We also shouldn’t assume he’s going to take on the van Bruggens. 

He claims his plan is to stir up another preternatural war. In that case, he’ll need to attack both sides. I have no doubt he could masquerade as a hunter to suit his own needs. The largest hub of preternaturals here is St. Josephine’s Church. Since it’s full of transients, clanless and homeless, it would have the biggest impact on the pret population. Everyone knows at least one person that lives at the Church.

I’d suggest having Adam and his progeny watch both locations with one of the werewolves; that way, when the dragon does appear, they can lead him away while the werewolf comes to alert us. Any questions?”

“I have one.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at the owner of the unfamiliar voice. It was a tall, willowy woman with white blonde hair falling down to her ankles. She was so pale as to almost glow, with silver eyes and nails. She was beautiful to the point that is was painful. She smiled, walking up to the vampire.

“Nice av yer ter show up, Jedidah,” Fergal said, yawning. She nearly matched him in height, and so towered over Sarif. She leaned against the mantle, smiling. 

“I don’t really like playing hide and seek,” she said. “It’s so awful and boring. Couldn’t I just take the dragon on myself?”

“What d’ya think that’ll do?” Orion drawled. The fae princess glared at xem. The fae and demons had a long standing antagonism for each other, though no one was really sure why. “It don’ matter how much you power up those limp arms a’ yours if the beast’s scales are impervious to majick.”

“Oh-ho? You think you could do better, trollop?” Jedidah asked. Dabbler of dark magic or not, she was still a proud fae. 

“None av dat, nigh,” Fergal said, stepping between the two’s line of sight. “We're on de seem side 'ere, mind?”

“Tell tha’ ta her,” Orion said, draping xemself on xyr mate’s shoulders. Wayne sighed, not really sure how to help in this situation.

“Ha! As if a demon can be civil,” Jedidah replied, holding up her hands. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering with all of you. I should just go after the thing myself.”

“Then do,” Orion said. “I wouldn’ mourn ya.”

“Perhaps I will,” the fae replied. “Perhaps-”

“That’s enough,” Adam said, moving from the back of the room. Sarif let his progeny have the floor. The vampire looked up at the princess, who gave him a mocking smile. “You’re under my roof, and by law you owe me the courtesy of not antagonizing my guests.”

“Tch, he started it,” Jedidah replied.

“You’re not my guest,” Adam shot back, crossing his arms. Jedidah opened her mouth to speak, then closed it with a cold smile.

“True, it did slip my mind to ask for permission to enter,” she said. “Very well. You win this round, vampire.”

“Good,” Adam said. He turned to face his audience. “Now, does anyone have anything constructive to say?”

“Thar's an auld quarry a couple ton kilos from 'ere,” Fergal said. “Oi reckon de tunnels wud be wee enoof ter force de dragon ter change.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Adam said, nodding. Then he looked at the fae princess. “Once he’s changed, he’ll still be a formidable magic user. Think you can handle him?”

“Should be a piece of cake,” Jedidah replied, smiling. 

“Now that that’s settled, excuse me,” Christophe said, and rose, leaving the room. It was then that Daryl sunk to the floor, rising up in the front of the room. 

~I could let you know when the dragon is getting close,~ it signed. Adam nodded again, and the shade slunk out of the room. 

“We'll go prepare ourselves. Better ter 'unt nigh, an' scrap on a full gut,” Fergal said, and his pack followed him out. 

“See you later, Adam,” Faridah said, waving. Orion wordlessly towed Wayne out of the room, dragging his mate back to the guest room. That left Sarif, Adam and Jedidah in the room.

“I’ll go let the founder know what’s going on,” Sarif said, and waved over his shoulder as he left.

“What I’d like to know is where Frank is,” the fae queen said. Adam sighed, but none the less led the way back to the small room off to the side. He knocked before cautiously opening the door. 

The hunter was in better shape, off the floor and sitting in a chair. Cristian sat on a nearby settee, with Christophe in his lap. Jedidah rushed past the vampire to embrace the hunter, which caused Pritchard to sigh in resignation.

“Hello, Jedie,” he said, putting up with the attention remarkable well.

“Oh, my darling boy! How are you? Are you alright? Has anyone mistreated you?” the fae princess replied, pulling back to pat the hunter down, stroke his hair, much like a worried mother. Frank rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine, Jedie,” he said, then hissed as she accidentally touched one of his wounds. She frowned, putting her hands on her hips.

“Oh, fine, is it?” she asked. “Here I fly halfway across the world because Ola contacts me saying you’re hurt and have a dragon after you, and now you’re fine?”

“I’m handling it,” Frank said, slouching over the opposite side of the chair. Cristian was holding back a laugh, and Adam moved to lean against the wall next to the door. “I’m a hunter, this is what I do.”

“Horse shit,” Jedidah replied. “You’re just a rebellious teenager, is what you are, making your mother and me worry over you with all this acting out.”

“I’m already a hundred three, I don’t think that qualifies as a teenager,” the hunter replied. Adam blinked in surprise. There was something new.

“I have great grandchildren older than you, mister,” Jedidah said. “And they’re still teenagers as far as I’m concerned.”

“Uh huh, then why don’t you give them this little routine?” Frank asked. Jedidah huffed, standing and crossing her arms. 

“Fine. Go and fight a dragon, see if I care,” she said, and stormed out of the room. After a few minutes, she popped her head back in. “But, if you need me, I’ll be nearby. Ta!”

“... what was that?” Adam asked. Cristian grinned, and Frank sighed.

“Jedidah was something of a second mother to me growing up,” the hunter said, fixing his hair. “Since mine couldn’t leave her pool in the woods and all. Sometimes she likes to take the role a little too seriously.”

“So I see,” Adam said. Then he looked over at Cristian and Christophe. “So, are you two…”

“Dating, yes,” Cristian said, snuggling the smaller man in his lap. Christophe gave him a wry smile.

“It’s actually been almost two years now,” the empath said. “And yet people are still surprised… not that I blame them.”

“Hey! That’s mean,” Cristian said. Christophe pushed him, albeit gently.

“It’s not my fault you’re a notorious playboy,” he said. Cristian stuck his tongue out at the empath, then stood suddenly, picking him up. Christophe frowned. “I wish you would stop doing that…”

“Hey, Adam, mind if we crash here?” the werejackal said, ignoring him. The vampire shook his head. The man really hadn’t changed.

“Go ahead. I have plenty of room, after all,” he said. Grinning, Cristian carried the weakly protesting Christophe from the room. Which left the vampire and the hunter alone. Very carefully, Adam walked across the room, and sat in another chair. This one happened to face the hunter. “Feeling better?”

“Not really,” Pritchard said, leaning his head against his hand. “Just… tired.”

“Understandable,” Adam replied. The hunter sighed, then leaned forward.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked. Adam considered, and decided that it would be impossible to keep the hunter from being included. Especially after he’d learned about the fall of his clan.

“We’re going to lead the dragon to a quarry a couple of miles away,” the vampire said. “The goal is to lead him into the tunnels. He’ll be more vulnerable in human form.”

“I see,” Pritchard said. They were both quiet for some time, each considering their own thoughts.

Frank, for his part, was trying to see what was going to happen. It was his way of making plans; playing the action in his head to account for variables and possibilities. But, knowing how many people would be helping, especially many that he didn’t know, it was difficult to see everything that could possibly go wrong. That, and after his earlier episode, he was worn out.

Adam was trying to think of what to say next. Cristian had a point; he was running out of time. Perhaps he should just tell the hunter what was going on, and see what happened from there. Before the fighting started and made things more complicated. But how would the hunter react? Cristian had said he was more open minded than Adam thought, but sometimes the werejackal could be completely wrong about people. 

“I should probably be going,” the hunter said at length, standing. He felt even more tired when he stood. At least all he had to do was return to his apartment. Now that they had a plan in place, he was sure someone would be monitoring the van Bruggen estate. Adam remained seated, but looked up at the hunter. 

“I… I’ll contact you if anything comes up,” the vampire said. Pritchard nodded, putting his hands in his pockets as he started walking away. He had to pause at the door, swaying in exhaustion. Adam stood, walking over to him. “Are you alright?”

“Just tired,” the hunter replied, shaking himself and standing up. Adam regarded him, then mentally berated himself even as he spoke.

“If you’re that tired, you can stay here,” he said. Frank blinked at him, and the vampire crossed his arms. “Like I said before, I have plenty of room. And you look about ready to collapse.”

“I…” the hunter started, then paused. He leaned against the wall without thinking about it. He really was tired. He sighed, forcing himself to stand up again. “I think I might have to take you up on that.”

“I can go get your gear for you, if you want,” Adam offered. It was more an excuse to leave than anything else, but he figured it was probably a good idea as well. The hunter nodded.

“I’d appreciate that,” he said. Adam opened the door. 

“Bedrooms are all upstairs,” he said, heading to the front door. Frank followed after, since the stairway was in the same direction.

“Thanks,” he said, and the vampire watched as he made his way up the stairs. With a sigh, Adam left his manor, heading for the hunter’s apartment. 

“I figured as much,” Sarif said, joining him about a block away. Adam sighed.

“What do you mean, boss?” he asked, although he knew damn well. His sire smiled, keeping pace with him.

“That if the hunter got in your space, you’d find a way to keep him there,” Sarif said, putting his hands behind his head. Adam frowned.

“It’s not like that,” he said. “He was just so tired he could barely walk straight.”

“Uh huh, so why not offer to walk him back, then?” his sire countered. Adam ground his teeth, then sighed.

“Listen, boss, I… appreciate what it is you’re trying to do,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm. “But I can handle this myself.”

“Mm, I see,” Sarif said. “Like how you’ve been gorging yourself on blood?”

“I’m not-” Adam started, then stopped. He sighed again. “It’s just a precaution.”

“If you were handling things, you wouldn’t need precautions,” Sarif said. “Adam, you need to say something before things get out of hand.”

“I will,” his progeny replied. 

“When?” Sarif asked. 

“When bringing it up isn’t going to make me sound like an ass,” Adam replied. Sarif made a noise of frustration, stepping in front of the younger vampire and poking him in the chest.

“You don’t. Have. Time,” he said. He looked up at his progeny over the rim of his glasses. “I’ve seen him around you now. You don’t even trust yourself to stay in the same room alone with him. You’re gorging yourself on blood and being territorial, subconscious or not. I understand that you’re trying to be considerate, but there isn’t time for it, Adam. You need to do something about this situation before you can’t control yourself.”

“... I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Adam conceded, walking around his sire. Sarif sighed, but let him go.

“You’d better,” he said. Then, more quietly, to himself. “For both of your sakes.”

 

Meanwhile, there was a knock on the door to the room Frank had commandeered for himself. The hunter had taken a brief shower, and had just put on some light clothes. With a guess at who it was, he none the less cautiously opened the door. 

“Yeah, thought as much,” Cristian said, smiling and scratching the back of his head. “Mind if I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Frank said, moving aside to let him in the room. The hunter yawned, moving to sit on the bed as the werejackal closed the door behind him. “What is it?”

“So… well, I guess, this is kind of weird to explain,” Cristian said, leaning on the bedside table. “Christophe said he already let you know Adam likes you, right?”

“Right,” Frank said, stifling another yawn. He hoped the werejackal came to his point soon, so he could go to bed. Cristian sighed.

“Well, here’s the thing,” he said. “Have you ever heard of a vampire’s blood stirring?”

“No, what’s that?” the hunter asked. Cristian nodded, then smiled kind of sheepishly.

“I suppose hunter’s call it bloodlust, but it’s a bit more complicated than that,” he said. “See, it’s this sensation vampire’s experience where they feel… more alive, I guess? Sorry, I’m just going off of what I’ve heard. Anyways, it always happens with a person, and they also crave that person’s blood.”

“What’s your point?” Frank asked. He was just so tired, he couldn’t connect whatever dots Cristian was trying to make him see. The werejackal sighed.

“My point is that you have Adam’s blood stirring,” he said. It took the hunter a full minute to really catch the implications of that.

“I what?” he asked, feeling more awake. Cristian scratched the back of his head.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Adam’s a good guy,” he said. “But he can’t control the way he’s attracted to you. In fact, I’m kind of surprised he’s lasted this long.”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, crossing his arms. He could feel another yawn coming on, but he needed to hear this.

“He’s really straining to control himself around you,” Cristian said. “He’s gorging himself on blood to make sure he’s too full to feed. I doubt he can even stay in a room with you for long without your scent driving him crazy.”

“Well, you’re wrong on that count,” Frank said. “Yesterday-”

“Did he seem anxious to leave?” Cristian asked. “How long has he stayed in a room with you, alone, since then?”

“I… ugh, I’m too tired for this,” the hunter said, covering his eyes with a hand. “Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because Adam tests his limits,” Cristian said, and Frank looked up at him through his fingers. “He thinks he can stay in control of himself, but it won’t last forever. I’m pretty sure if he gets the scent of your blood in his nose, it’s going to snap his self control completely.”

“He already has,” Frank replied, letting his hand drop. “I got injured fighting a necromancer.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the werejackal said, face palming. “That idiot.”

“What?” Frank asked, raising a brow. The werejackal looked up, giving the hunter a wry smile.

“No wonder he’s already gorging himself,” he said. “You wouldn’t happen to know if he tasted any of your blood, would you?”

“Why?” the hunter asked, feeling very uncomfortable. 

“Because if he has, than he’s pushing himself even more than I thought,” Cristian said. Frank frowned, glaring. 

“And why would he do that?” he asked. If this was all just some kind of game, he was going to kill him. Cristian sighed.

“Because he doesn’t want to force you into anything,” he said. Frank blinked at him.

“Huh?” he asked. Cristian rolled his eyes.

“I already told you, he isn’t a bad guy,” he said. “The reason I’m telling you this instead of him is probably that he thinks if you know, you’ll feel obligated to oblige him, or force yourself to let him suck your blood. He’d rather it was your choice, without that kind of influence.”

“You’re kidding,” Frank said, crossing his arms. Cristian smiled wanly.

“I wish,” he said. “Otherwise, he would have already told you. You’re only the second person to make his blood stir, as far as I know.”

“What happened to the first?” Frank asked. Cristian shrugged, walking away.

“You’d have to ask Adam, I wasn’t there at the time,” he said, and left the room. With a sigh, Frank climbed into bed. He wasn’t sure what to make of the werejackal’s speech, or how much of it was true. He didn’t think the man was lying, but he also knew that sometimes Cristian could bend the truth to suit his own ends. This, however, didn’t seem like one of those times. 

Cursing the stupid werejackal, Frank got out of bed and dressed to wait for the vampire downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looks like things heated up in this chapter

When Adam returned to his manor, he could smell the hunter in the living room. Putting the man’s bag by the door, he silently crept in. He needn’t have worried, however. Pritchard was fast asleep, slumped against one side of the couch. Adam scratched his head, wondering why the hell the hunter was even there to begin with. Then, with a sigh, he gently shook the man’s shoulder.

“Francis,” he said, and the hunter snorted, then roused. He blinked up at the vampire, and the expression was somehow endearing. Adam took a few steps back as the hunter yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It should be illegal for grown men to be cute when they woke up. And it wasn’t helping the vampire any, as he leaned against the mantle. “Waiting up for me?”

“Had a question,” the hunter mumbled. Adam arched a brow, but didn’t move. It took Pritchard a few more minutes of concentrated waking up before he looked at the vampire clearly. “Do you like me?”

“Have I given you the impression that I liked you?” Adam asked. He was trying very, very hard to lean casually against the mantle. Frank snorted crossing his arms.

“No, but you have seemed to give everyone else that impression,” he said, arching a brow. Damn Cristian, he probably said something. 

“Who’s everyone?” the vampire asked, adding a scoff to his tone. He didn’t want to lie, but he also wanted to guage the hunter’s reaction. If he acted like it was nothing, perhaps he could learn something. Frank leaned back.

“Well, Crisitian, for one,” he said. No surprise there. “Your progeny, for another.” What the hell did Wayne say? “And, of course, Christophe.”

“... if you’ve already spoken to an empath,” Adam asked, cautious, “Then why ask me?”

“I wanted to hear your side of it,” the hunter said. Adam arched a brow. So, the hunter really did have a certain degree of trust in him. He owed him an honest answer for that, at least.

“I don’t know if I would say like,” the vampire said. For one thing, he thought to himself, it would be an understatement. “It’s more… complicated than that.”

“Cristian said something about ‘blood stirring’?” the hunter supplied. Adam’s nails sharpened as he dug them into the mantle. He was going to kill the werejackal.

“That’s… different,” he said. The hunter arched a brow.

“Different?” he asked. Adam sighed softly.

“You don’t have to like someone to have your blood stir,” he said. “It can also be an enemy, someone you hate.”

“I see,” the hunter said. His eyes were drooping; he was clearly tiring. It seemed like he was trying to think of something, but it wasn’t coming to him. Adam waited, hoping he’d thrown the man off enough. “But that didn’t answer my question.”

“Which question?” the vampire asked. The hunter opened his mouth, then closed it. It was like he didn’t want to know the answer to his own question, and was struggling to ask. Depending on what Cristian had told him, it was a distinct possibility. 

“Listen,” Adam said. “How about we finish this talk tomorrow?”

“I think… that would be best,” the hunter agreed. He moved to stand, then hissed in a breathe, pressing a hand to his side. “Damn wounds…”

“I could heal those for you, you know,” Adam said, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn’t sure how well he pulled it off, until the hunter snorted.

“Isn’t that something vampire’s usually reserve for their mates?” he asked. Adam could feel splinters beneath his nails.

“Yes,” he said, deciding to be completely honest as he looked the hunter in the eye. “It is.”

Pritchard didn’t seem to register what he’d said for a minute or two. Then he blushed, scratching the back of his head and looking away.

“Uh… well, I’m uh, flattered, and all, but, hm,” he said, seemingly struggling to find the words. Adam decided to spare the exhausted man.

“I figured these would be extenuating circumstances,” the vampire replied. “With the dragon and all.”

“Right, of course,” the hunter said. He was backing out of the living room now, and it seemed like odd behaviour to Adam. He wondered again what Cristian had told him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’ll pass in any case.”

“Suit yourself,” Adam said, shrugging. He watched the hunter grab his bag, then retreat up the stairs. It wasn’t until he heard a door shut that Adam moved. He was up the stairs and in front of the room Cristian and Christophe were using. He knocked, forcing the sound to be quiet. Cristian, yawning, answered the door wearing only pants. 

“What is..?” the werejackal was cut off as Adam grabbed him by the neck.  
“Cosa diavolo gli hai detto?” he asked, ability to speak English fleeing for the time being. Cristian laughed shortly, grabbing Adam’s wrist. He didn’t try shaking his grip just yet. 

“Je ne lui ai dit la vérité,” the werejackal replied in French. 

“Questo non risponde alla mia domanda,” Adam growled. He was glaring at Cristian over the top of his shades, but the other man didn’t seem particularly bothered. 

“Tout ce que je lui ai dit est qu'il a votre agitation de sang,” the werejackal said. “Puis je l'ai expliqué ce que cela signifie.”

Very slowly, Adam relaxed his grip. He pulled his hand back, and Cristian rubbed his neck with a frown. That was probably going to bruise, even with his enhanced healing. 

“E 'stata una cosa stupida da fare,” the vampire said. Cristian rolled his eyes. 

“Aussi stupide que vous retenir après avoir senti son sang?” he asked. Adam started. “S'il vous plaît me dire que vous avez au moins pas encore goûté.”

“Merda,” Adam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cristian facepalmed. 

“Comment ai-je le sais?” he asked. Then he pointed at the vampire. “Vous devez boire son sang. Bientôt.”

“Lo so,” Adam said. “Ma…”

“Pas de mais,” Cristian said. “Si vous continuez à mettre ceci, les choses vont tout simplement mettre fin à une situation pire.”

“Lo so!” Adam said, more harshly than loudly. The werejackal sighed, then was surprised by his boyfriend appearing at his side.

“Si suus opem aliquam velit et tu,” Christophe said, using Latin to speak. Adam blinked at him, and kept himself still.

“Lui… fa?” he asked. Christophe looked to Cristian. He only spoke Latin and English, but he knew enough about the emotions and situation to guess what it was about. Cristian nodded, and Christophe disappeared back in the room.

“Mon mignon et moi en avons parlé pendant que vous étiez,” the werejackal said. “Il semble que Frank vous aime aussi.”

“E 'sicuro di questo?” Adam asked. Cristian nodded, smiling. 

“Donc, vraiment, vous devriez faire un geste,” he said.

“Io ... dico qualcosa domani,” Adam replied, and turned to go to his own room. 

“Have a good night, Adam,” Cristian said, closing the door. 

Adam didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. His head was full of thoughts and daydreams. Not to mention knowing the hunter was just down the hall. And that the man actually liked him. 

He needed to stop thinking about it. It wasn’t helping his self control any. He rolled on his side. Why had Cristian felt the need to get involved? He knew though. Because the werejackal was right. Sarif, too. He needed to talk, and he needed to drink the hunter’s blood.While he was still in control of himself. Otherwise…

Adam sighed. Otherwise, he was going to lose control and drink the hunter’s blood anyways, which was likely to get him killed. He turned again, staring up at his ceiling. It was going to be a long day.

 

Frank tossed and turned in his sleep. He was having nightmares, images of the massacre at the Pritchard estate. He watched as hunters were slaughtered one after another. It was from the point of view of the killer, which made it worse. There was the minotaur as well, goring men and women as they charged him. 

And then the point of view changed. He was flying through the air, high above the clouds. The air was thin and cold. He spied a building in the city below, and there was something oddly familiar about it as he circled down to it, landing on the roof. He sped through the halls of the abandoned car factory, down to the basement, where he looked in a mirror. But it wasn’t his reflection. There was a another man, who smirked at the mirror. He bit his finger, drawing blood. He used the blood to write on the mirror.

I’m waiting, hunter.

Frank shot up in bed, heart racing. That was no dream, he realized, almost instantly. The dragon was here, in the city. And he was calling him out.

The hunter forced himself to calm down. He knew going after the dragon was a stupid idea, but then the images came flooding back to him. Of his clan being slaughtered. Of Carlisle, his brother, being burnt alive. He looked at the wall. His friends were in the next room. Could he let them risk themselves? 

Resolving himself, the hunter got up. He dressed and geared up as quickly and quietly as he could. He wasn’t going to let anyone else he cared about get killed by the dragon. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the cocky bastard get away with this. 

So, hoping he was quiet enough that his vampire host didn’t hear, he opened the window. He sighed in relief at seeing the pool. Then, concentrating, he made a pillar of water rise up to the window. He stepped onto it, and then lowered himself to the ground that way. Then he pushed the water gently back into the pool. He looked up, at the manor. 

He’d never actually said he wouldn’t take on the dragon alone, but he still felt like he was betraying Jensen’s trust. Not to mention this blood stirring thing, if it even was a thing. With a sigh through his nose, the hunter turned, and quickly made his way into the street.

 

Adam had somehow managed to doze off, but woke with a start when someone tried to invade his mind. Daryl the shade was hanging over him, straight out from the wall. The shade stopped his intrusion as soon as the vampire woke, and signed instead.

~Frank went out on his own, I don’t know why,~ it said, Adam was up and getting dressed.

“Cosa? Dove?” he asked, watching the shade as he finished getting dressed. The shade hesitated, then pushed against the vampire’s mind again, asking permission this time. Adam closed his eyes, letting the shade in.

Daryl showed him a strange, black and white vision of the world, like it had been drained of color. But it went through the streets, from Adam’s manor to one of the many abandoned car factories in the city. With a curse in Italian, the vampire was off and running. 

 

Frank crept into the factory through a hole in one side of the building. He’d made sure to put on his masking agent before getting close. He hoped it would be enough to give him an element of surprise.

The hunter used the machinery to stay out of sight. He didn’t see the dragon anywhere, but he could definitely sense him. 

“So, you did come,” someone said, and Frank felt his blood run cold. There was a small laugh, and then footsteps ringing on the metal floor. The dragon emerged from a hole in the center of the floor. He was at least twenty feet in length. Frank swallowed, making sure his crossbow was prepared. It was loaded with regular bolts, as holy water wouldn’t work against a dragon. “That was a mistake, hunter.”

Frank jumped from his cover, to another piece of machinery as his cover was reduced to a smoking, melted heap. The hunter stared in shock. 

“You can mask your scent,” the dragon said, “But you can’t stop your heartbeat.”

With a curse, Frank jumped out of cover and fired at the dragon. His bolt skimmed off the scales as the beast lunged at him, jaws wide. The hunter rolled to the side, shin being scratched by the dragon’s teeth as he barely dodged. He fired off another bolt as he scrambled behind another derelict machine. It struck off the dragon’s cheek, almost nicking it in the eye. 

“You have good aim, hunter,” the dragon said. It sent off a blast of fire at the machine, and Frank was forced to change again. He fired off another bolt, aiming for the dragon’s eyes. “But you let your pride get the better of you.”

The dragon blasted the hunter’s cover again. This time, Frank jumped into the open. As the dragon lunged at him again, he tossed one of his grenades into its mouth. The dragon recoiled as its mouth filled with ice. Frank took the opportunity to bolt up one of the staircases, to the upper floor. The dragon blasted through the ice, then laughed.

“At least you know how to put up a fight,” it mocked. “Should I tell you my name? A man deserves to know the name of his killer, don’t you think, Frank?”

The hunter ignored the jibe. He swallowed. What could he do? There had to be something. No one was unstoppable. The floor beneath him suddenly bent, and Frank found himself looking up and back at the face of the dragon. He jumped and rolled away, as the place he’d been hiding was blasted. He ran, jumping over discarded boxes and around the corner before firing off another bolt.

“Jaron Namir, hunter,” the dragon said, pulling the landing off the wall beneath his claws. “There, now we can be gentlemen.”

Frank jumped and ran as the dragon fired at his hiding place again. Jaron fired again, this blast just in front of the hunter. Frank skidded back, throwing up and arm to protect his face from heat and debris. He landed on his ass, hissing at his injured leg. With nothing else to do, he took desperate aim at the dragon and fired.

By sheer luck, the bolt sunk into the dragon’s eye. Jaron roared, shaking the walls of the factory. Frank forced himself to get up, and ran into an office in the wall. He was sweating, and his heart was racing. He was going to die. If this went on, he was going to die. 

Outside, the dragon tried to pull the bolt out of his eye. It was too small for his claws to grasp, and so he transformed into a human. He tore the bolt from his eye, tossing it away. He looked up at the second floor, then smiled thinly.

“Afraid now, hunter?” he called. He strolled over to the stairway on the opposite side, climbing it as he held a glowing hand to his eye, healing it. “You put up a better fight than the rest of your clan. Perhaps it is because you’re half preternatural?”

Frank felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face. Now was his chance, when the dragon was in a vulnerable state. But he couldn’t force himself to move. He was frozen, in shock and fear. All the while, the dragon walked closer.

“You should consider changing sides, hunter,” Jaron said. “Have the hunters really been so kind to you? And prets, I can’t see them having much affection for a man who chose to be hunter over them. Admit it, hunter. You’d like to see them all burn, wouldn’t you?”

The dragon paused. He turned, looking over the factory. He thought he’d heard someone moving, but he didn’t see anyone. Then he heard the hunter, and smiled.

“The vents won’t save you, hunter,” Jaron said, listening to the man’s progress. Frank felt sick, running away like this. He forced himself on, as the vent angled upwards. He ended up on the third floor, as Jaron hummed a tune, walking to the staircase. The dragon paused again, and turned back.

Adam decked him.

He knew it wouldn’t be enough, and used the moment to leap over the fallen dragon and run up the stairs. He zipped up to the third floor, and around the corner. He tracked the hunter by scent. It smelled like the hunter had opened his wounds in the fight, or gotten a new one. 

“You’ll pay for that, vampire,” the dragon said softly. Adam believed him, bursting into the room just as Frank pulled himself through the vent. 

“È idiota del cazzo!” he yelled, pulling the man up by his jacket. Frank stared at him in shock, then struggled out of his grip.

“What are you-” he started, before Adam grabbed him and dove to the floor. A blast went off above their heads, and the vampire growled at the heat and flame hitting his back. He quickly stripped out of his jacket, pulling the hunter along into the next room. There was a window here, but Frank was still struggling against his grip.

“Mi dispiace per questo,” he said, right before punching the hunter in his side. 

“You dick,” the hunter gasped out.

“Si, si,” the vampire said, throwing the hunter over his shoulder before taking a step back and launching himself out the window with his opposite shoulder. A blast went off behind them, propelling them forward. Adam hit the ground on his back with a growl, Frank rolling past him. “Fa male…”

“Jesus Christ,” the hunter said, rising up to his feet unsteadily. Adam rolled over, then forced himself to stand. There was glass in his shoulder, and his broken bones were knitting themselves together as he walked over. 

“We need to move,” he said, forcing the heavily accented English through. Frank glared at him, but then Jaron broke through one of the large skylights. He took a step back, and almost fell on his bad leg. Adam caught him, lifting the hunter up and breaking into a dead run.

Jaron watched them, then settled on the roof. He growled, then retreated back into the factory. 

Adam didn’t stop until he was outside his manor. By the sound of things, his house guests were already up as well. He set the hunter on his feet without a word, supporting his bad side as they walked up to his door. He broke the lock as he opened it.

“Putain!” Cristian declared, easing Frank from Adam’s side. The vampire let him, clomping to the kitchen and collapsing into a chair.

“Wayne,” he said, and his progeny was there. 

“Shit, Adam, did you jump through a window?” he asked, getting to work at pulling out the glass shards. Adam hissed, claws digging into the table.

“Si,” he said. Wayne shook his head, but said no more. Cristian had hustled the hunter upstairs, but the scent of his blood lingered. “Sangue.”

“I’ll get it,” Orion said, moving around the kitchen as his mate worked. Adam closed his eyes, forced himself to focus on the pain. 

“Vous putain idiote!” Cristian declared, even as he helped the hunter patch himself up. Frank hissed at the disinfectant, and glared.

“I’m fine,” he said, through gritted teeth. The werejackal growled, and wrapped the wound none too gently. 

“You’re lucky Adam was there to get you!” he said, his words heavily accented.

“What made you think you could take on a dragon, anyways?” Christophe asked. He was sitting back to back with Cristian, knees drawn up to his chest. Frank frowned. All this negative energy couldn’t be helping the empath. 

“It… it was a nightmare,” the hunter said. Cristian looked up at him, glaring, but concerned. “I… he showed me. The massacre. From his point of view.”

“... ce salaud,” Cristian growled. He was starting to morph, that much was certain. Christophe whimpered, tucking his head. It made the werejackal start, then turn to wrap an arm around his boyfriend. “Je suis désolé, mon mignon.”

“I’ll go,” Frank said, gripping the counter to stand. Cristian nodded, and picked up Christophe to move to the bedroom. Frank made his way through the room and out, closing the door behind him as the werejackal tried to comfort his empath boyfriend. With a breath to steel himself, he went back downstairs. 

Adam looked up as the hunter walked into the kitchen. He’d taken off his shirt to help get all of the glass shards. Some were healed over and embedded in his skin, and Wayne had to reopen the skin to get them out. His other injuries were mostly healed, and he gave Pritchard an appraising eye. 

The hunter stood awkwardly in the doorway. He noted the five mugs, at least three of which had blood running down the sides. Adam himself had blood running heavily from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. The vampire had his shades off, and was glaring at him. It was Orion that noticed the hunter, and pushed him out of the room and into the next one.

“He’s fione,” xe said. “But seein’ you is the las’ thing he needs.”

“What? What do you-” Frank started, turning to face the incubus. Orion sighed, crossing xyr arms.

“To be honest, I’m surprised he didn’ jus’ pin ya down on the street and drink ya dry righ’ there,” xe said. “He’s really pushin’ himself here, ya know?”

“He… the blood stirring thing?” Frank asked, trying to look around the incubus to see into the kitchen.

“So ya know about tha’?” xe asked. 

“Just since last night,” the hunter replied, finally giving up in defeat. Orion arched a brow, then shrugged.

“Well, ya should know,” xe said. “I imagine Adam didn’ tell ya, goin’ by ya didn’ let him suck yer blood then.”

“Ah, no, he didn’t,” Frank said. “But I don’t see-”

“If he pushes himself too far, he’s gonna take yer blood by force,” the incubus said. “As much as he’s trying to let you have your way, it’ll happen eventually.”

“Orion.”

The pair turned. Adam stood in the doorway, glaring at the incubus. Xe glanced at Frank, then turned and walked around the vampire to return to the kitchen. Frank swallowed, looking at Adam. The vampire glared at him, and the force of it made the hunter’s legs give out. Adam caught him and set him on the couch, pausing while looming over the hunter. Frank looked back at him, wide-eyed. 

“E 'difficile mantenere il controllo con voi mettendo costantemente in pericolo,” Adam said, softly. Then he stood, and walked away. Frank twisted to look over the couch, to see the vampire go up the stairs. He turned back, and leaned back into the couch. Slowly, he lifted a hand to his eyes, and covered them. 

The images played back. Of the massacre. The dead. Jaron Namir, the dragon coming after him.

Quietly, the hunter cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... i did say they heated up...
> 
> anyways, translations:
> 
> "What the hell did you tell him?"
> 
> "I only told him the truth."
> 
> "That doesn't answer my question."
> 
> "I told him that he has your blood stirring. And then I explained what that meant."
> 
> "That was a stupid thing to do."
> 
> "As stupid as not telling him after smelling his blood? Please tell me you at least haven't tasted it yet."
> 
> "Shit."
> 
> "How did I know? You need to drink his blood. Soon."
> 
> "I know. But-"
> 
> "No buts. If you continue to do this, things are just going to end worse."
> 
> "I know!"
> 
> "If it helps at all, he likes you too."
> 
> "He... does?"
> 
> "My cutie and I talked about it while you were out. It seems Frank likes you too."
> 
> "And he's sure about that?"
> 
> "So, you really should make a move."
> 
> "I'll... say something tomorrow."
> 
> *
> 
> "What? Where?"
> 
> *
> 
> "You fucking idiot!"
> 
> "Sorry about this."
> 
> "Yeah, yeah."
> 
> "That hurt."
> 
> *
> 
> "Holy shit!"
> 
> "Yes. Blood."
> 
> "You fucking idiot!"
> 
> "... that bastard."
> 
> "It's hard to stay in control with you constantly putting yourself in danger."


	8. Chapter 8

There was a knock at Adam’s bedroom door. He already knew who it was, he could smell him. He considered not answering, then sighed softly and went to the door. He only opened it a crack, and Pritchard looked nervous.

“Cos'è?” the vampire asked. His voice was gruff, almost a growl at this point. The hunter scratched the back of his head, looked away, then at the ground. He looked up at Adam from under his brows.

“That offer to heal my wounds still open?” he asked, and Adam almost wanted to punch him. Of all the stupid things to ask… but he knew what he was getting into by this point, so he supposed it wasn’t a terrible way to broach the subject.

“Ho intenzione di ucciderli,” the vampire said, meaning Cristian and Orion. If those two hadn't gone off and blabbed about his blood stirring and what it meant, then the hunter wouldn’t be here right now. The vampire went to shut the door, but stopped when the hunter put a hand against it.

“Listen,” Frank said, and had to catch himself as Adam looked him in the eye again. The vampire hadn’t put on a new pair of shades yet, though he had taken the time to clean off the blood. “If… if this thing really is going to happen, and it sounds a lot like it is, then I’d rather it was on my terms.”

Adam gave him an appraising look. He highly doubted these were the hunter’s terms, such as the situation went, but he no longer had the willpower to hold out. With a sigh, he stepped away from the door, leaving it open. 

“Si accomodi,” he said, setting on the bed. Frank entered cautiously, looking around the room. It was in a state of disarray, clothes and various odds and ends laying out. Adam patted the the side of the bed next to him as Frank shut the door. “Sedersi.”

The hunter didn’t speak Italian, but context led him to walk across the room and sit down next to the vampire. For a time, Adam didn’t move. This really wasn’t the way he would have wanted things to go, but he just didn’t have time to do things the right way. If there even was a right way in these circumstances. So, with a sigh, he turned, and leaned into the hunter.

“Dimmi se mi avete bisogno di fermarsi,” he said, one hand moving to undo the hunter’s jacket. Frank nodded, although he could really only guess what the vampire meant. He was uncomfortable in this situation. He’d never really been in a relationship, and this was far and wide outside his area of expertise. He helped by shrugging out of his jacket, then took the moment to pull his shirt over his head.

He had three major wounds from the fight with the necromancer; one was on his shoulder, one on his right side just under his arm and one on his left on the side of his abdomen. Adam started with the shoulder wound, gently pulling the tape and gauze off. The smell of the hunter’s blood was there, and Adam gave in to his instincts and drank.

Frank almost pulled away, but stopped himself. It was an odd sensation, as the vampire pulled up what had already healed off the wound and licked at the scratches left behind. Frank looked away. Adam could taste his anxiety, but he was surprised by the source.

He wasn’t nervous because he was uncomfortable with the situation. He was nervous because he thought the only reason Adam liked him was because he wanted to drink his blood. 

So he does like me, the vampire thought. The shoulder wound closed, the vampire moved on to the scratches just below the hunter’s right arm. The positioning caused Adam to duck under Frank’s arm, and the hunter hesitantly rest the appendage on the vampire’s shoulders. Adam dug a little deeper into the hunter’s emotions here, careful not to intrude too far. 

He could taste images of slaughter, of bodies everywhere. An older man being burnt alive, and then Jaron Namir, the dragon. There was his dragon form, terrible jaws agape as he lunged, but also his human face, smiling thinly. The words ‘I’ll be waiting, hunter’, painted in red. 

Adam pulls away, those injuries now healed. He glances up at the hunter. Frank is still looking away, and now that he’s looking, Adam can tell the man has been crying again. The vampire held back a growl. He wanted to kill the dragon himself about now, but reigned himself in. He needed to focus on what he was doing, so that he didn’t go too far.

The vampire cut the wrap around the hunter’s waist with a claw, then shifted on to his knees. The move startled Frank, who looked down at Adam as he pulled off the gaze on the injury at his side. This wound was bleeding, thanks to the vampire’s earlier attention. Adam looked up at Frank, and ran a finger lightly over the wound. 

“Mi dispiace per questo,” he said. Frank frowned, then looked away.

“It’s fine,” he said, softly. “I was being an idiot.”

“Beh, non posso essere d'accordo con te …” the vampire said, and the hunter seemed about to reply when he started licking at the wounds. Frank made a soft grunt, and Adam glanced up at him again. Ah, it was starting.

Vampire saliva contained three things that aided in hiding their work as well as catching their prey. The first two were a healing agent with rapidly healed wounds, and a local anesthesia. The third was slower acting, but potent. That being an effective aphrodisiac.

Adam could taste the change in the hunter’s blood. There were still the images from before, but they were becoming less coherent and messy. An image of Adam sucking the hunter off managed to pop in, and the vampire couldn’t help but smirk as the hunter quickly tried to forget it. He didn’t say anything, though he did glance up in time to catch the man’s blush as he continued to look away.

The wound in his side done, Adam scooted back. Frank seemed about to say something, when the vampire pushed up his pant leg to reveal his wrapped shin. The hunter watched as Adam undid the wrapping, then went to work on this injury as well. It called up more sensations than images, though they were still leading to the same place. Adam guessed the hunter was a virgin, since he couldn’t seem to call up anything specific. 

The leg healed, Adam moved closer again. This seemed to surprise the hunter, until he gently tapped the man’s thigh, where his last injury was. 

“Questo, anche,” he said. The hunter looked down at him with a frown, context once again providing the answer to the vampire’s foreign tongue. Adam waited patiently, looking at the hunter’s stomach to keep from influencing him. He wanted more of the man’s blood, but he could sate himself on what he had for now.

Francis, on the other hand, was having a different problem. The aphrodisiac working through his blood, he was starting to get an erection. In this position, the vampire was bound to notice if he took off his pants, which would be the only way to expose the injury. He was still feeling like shit from earlier, and with the feelings of lust mixed in, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. Taking a breath, he reached down and undid his belt. 

Adam moved back so that the hunter could more easily remove his pants. He couldn’t help but notice the man’s budding manhood, but pretended not to as he moved to the injury on his thigh. He let one hand rest softly on his opposite inner thigh, and could feel goosebumps under his skin. Frank’s blood let him taste the hunter’s confusion, and if he could speak English, he would have explained the situation. But now he was incapable of the mental acrobatics for an entirely different reason. 

Finishing with the hunter’s last wound, Adam stands. He looks down at the hunter, and Frank looks back up at him. Then he looks away. The hunger in the vampire’s eyes is obvious. Frank still isn’t exactly sure what he wants, but if this can help him forget about everything for even just a few minutes, he’ll take it. 

“You can… if you want, I mean,” he said. Adam grabbed his chin, lightly, making the hunter look at him.

“Tu non sai nemmeno cosa si sta accettando di …” he said, then leaned down and kissed him. It seemed to take Frank by surprise, his eyes going wide as Adam gently deepened the kiss with his tongue. The hunter lets him, tentatively closing his eyes and reaching up to rest a hand against the vampire’s cheek. It felt… good. Everything was still fucked up, but this… somehow, this wasn’t.

Adam pulled back. He opened his eyes half-way, looking at the hunter. Frank blinked his eyes open, looking back up at the vampire. Adam tilted his head to the side, leaning down to sink his fangs into the hunter’s neck. Frank gasped softly, more in surprise than anything else. It was what he had been offering, but the kiss had thrown him off. 

Pritchard tried to stay still, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. He felt like he was overheating, and blood was rushing to his face and groin in alarming amounts. He raised a hand to his face, and bit part of his finger to try and concentrate. But the image of the vampire sucking him off he’d had earlier kept jumping into his head, and at this point, he really just wanted the vampire to do it. 

“È questo che si vuole veramente?” Adam asked, pulling away from the hunter’s neck. The vampire sunk to his knees, and Frank bit down on his finger hard enough to draw blood. Gently, Adam pulled the hand to him, healing the wound while simultaneously drawing the hunter’s finger into his mouth. Frank bit his lip, and Adam looked up at him, eyes heavy as he released the hunter’s finger. He stroked the man’s thighs, continuing on. “Perché, se lo è, io posso farlo.”

“... please,” Frank said, looking away. Adam smirked, and the hunter wanted to hit him for that. Except the vampire pulled the band of his boxers, and it forced the hunter to push up to help in getting them off. Frank tried not to watch, but his eyes were drawn to the vampire’s face. 

Adam took his time, getting the hunter completely out of his pants, boxers, and shoes before turning back to the man. Frank had a weeping erection, but given how much blood Adam had taken, it was not much of a surprise. He was also, Adam discovered, uncircumcised. The vampire glanced up to catch the hunter watching him, and so moved deliberately. 

If Adam hadn’t caught his gaze, Frank probably would have looked away as the vampire wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft, watching the hunter as he took just the head into his mouth, slowly. He swirled his tongue around it, and Frank stifled a groan. Unable to close his eyes or look away, the hunter watched as Adam took more of his member into his mouth, his other hand moving to massage the man’s balls. A hand carded into the vampire’s hair on instinct, and Adam finally looked away from the hunter to concentrate on his work. 

Frank closed his eyes, sensation assaulting him as he got his first blow job. It wasn’t what he’d imagined it would be, but then again, he’d never really taken the time to imagine it in the first place. There had always seemed to be more important things to worry about. But honestly, if he had known he was going to enjoy it this much, the hunter might have made more of an effort to have gotten more blow jobs in is life.

It wasn’t long that the hunter came, a choked groan as much warning as he could offer the vampire. Adam coughed as the hot mess filled his mouth, but managed to swallow most of it. Panting, Frank opened his eyes to look down at the vampire.

The hunter was still erect, which was actually a little painful at this point. Adam looked up at him, those golden eyes just as entrancing as always. His lust was like a physical thing, and it sent a shiver down Frank’s spine. Then, with his clean hand, Adam reached up and covered the hunter’s eyes.

“Cosa vuoi fare adesso?” the vampire asked. Frank didn’t know exactly what the question was, but he had a good guess. He swallowed.

“I…” he said, suddenly unsure of himself. “I want to… go the whole way. You know. With this.”

“Come vuoi,” Adam said, uncovering the hunter’s eyes as he stood. Frank watched as the vampire undid his belt, then slid out of his pants and underwear. Looking at the vampire’s naked need, which was a considerably impressive specimen, he swallowed. “Non c'è bisogno di essere così teso.”

Frank looked up as Adam spoke, and jumped as the vampire dragged him into another kiss. He reciprocated a little faster this time, but broke away in surprise when Adam lifted him up. The vampire shifted them both to the middle of the bed, laying the hunter down on his back and kissing him again. He was feeling a bit heady; he hadn’t really expected the man to want to continue. He wasn’t sure how far they were going to get, but he was just happy to have gotten to this point. 

“Questo sarà probabilmente male,” Adam said, moving to speak into the hunter’s ear. It made Frank shiver, especially when the vampire bit into his neck again. 

He flinched as something, a finger, stroked his entrance, then tried to relax as Adam pressed into him. He shut his eyes tight; that hurt a lot more than he expected it to. And this was just one finger. He tried to imagine taking the vampire’s dick, and the thought actually scared him.

“Calmati, va tutto bene. È possibile cambiare idea,” Adam said, quickly removing his finger and pulling up to speak. Frank didn’t understand him, and had a moment of panic that things were about to escalate before the vampire took both of their members in hand and thrust against him.

The hunter groaned, closing his eyes and pushing his head back as the vampire continued what he was doing. 

“Stai facendo bene,” Adam said, speaking against the hunter’s ear. As the man made a soft moan, the vampire picked up the pace, tightening his grip as well. Frank’ nails dug into his back, but Adam didn’t mind. It was actually a nice counterpoint, and helped push him over the edge, just before the hunter. 

Frank collapsed under him, and the vampire nuzzled his neck.

“Grazie, tesorino,” he said, and kissed the hunter’s jaw. Frank made a noise of content, half asleep already. With a snort, Adam rose, retrieving a towel from his bathroom and wetting it with warm water. Frank was asleep when he came back in the room, but he took the time to clean off the hunter and himself. Then, moving the man under the covers, he spooned him, holding him close. 

They weren’t officially anything. Adam reminded himself of that, even as he let his mind drift off. The hunter had just wanted things to happen on his own terms, and to forget things for a while. Adam could respect both of those reasons. Which was why he reminded himself that they weren’t officially anything. This was just a kind of fluke.

That, or a start.

 

Frank had nightmares of the massacre again. Namir was tormenting him, mocking him with images of slaughter and chaos, but his own memories of fighting the dragon crashed in, and all he could feel was fear roiling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Francis!”

The hunter awoke with a start. Adam was looming over him, concern etched into his face. Frank’s heart was pounding, and he swallowed drily.

“I’m fine,” he said, quietly.

“Obviously not,” the vampire replied, frowning. Frank gave him a side eye in an attempt to distract the conversation.

“Finally remember how to speak English, Jensen?” he asked. Adam’s lip twitched up in a momentary snarl.

“Don’t change the subject,” he said. The hunter crossed his arms, arching a brow.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure it’s your business,” he said. Adam wanted to punch him. He settled for glaring.

“I can give you a couple compelling reason that it is,” he said. 

“Oh? Well, go on then,” the hunter said. 

“For one, it was dreaming that caused me to have to save your ass earlier today,” Adam said. Frank at least had the sense to look ashamed of that, but he kept glaring anyways. The vampire kind of wished the man’s stubbornness wasn’t a turn on. “For another, if you can’t be honest about what’s going on in your head, I’m not going to let you go up against Namir again.”

“What are you going to do, lock me up in here?” Frank asked. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Adam replied, voice almost a growl. The hunter scowled.

“You don’t own me, Jensen,” he said. “You can’t just tell me what to do.”

“Dio cazzo di- I’m trying to keep you from getting killed!” the vampire said, glaring full force. Frank recoiled into the mattress, and Adam closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. After a few minutes, Frank spoke.

“I… I keep seeing images of the massacre,” he said, softly. “And Namir, in his dragon form, with all those teeth…”

“There’s a way I can try to help,” Adam said. Frank looked up at him, but the vampire kept his eyes closed. “If I drink your blood again, I can get into your mind. If Namir’s still influencing you, I can stop him.”

“And if he’s not?” Frank asked. Adam sighed.

“Then I’ll do what I can,” he said. It was quiet for sometime.

“Okay,” Frank said, looking away. Adam opened his eyes, looking at the hunter. Assessing that he was sure about this, he closed his eyes again as he bit into the man’s neck.

It was like breaking the surface of a body of water. Adam was inside the hunter’s mind completely now, instead of skimming off his current thoughts. Frank could sense him, and the vampire tugged the man’s consciousness to him. He let the hunter watch as he found the place Namir had broken in, and repelled the dragon’s mental probe with considerable effort. 

Physically, Frank was heating up again. The aphrodisiac effects of vampire silvia couldn’t be negated by telepathic connection. Except, this time, Adam used the connection to communicate to the hunter what was happening. It seemed to piss the man off, which amused Adam, which in turn pissed Frank off more.

The hunter grunted as Adam ground down against him. He wrapped his arms around the vampire’s shoulders. Frank very correctly blamed Adam for this predicament, and wanted him to take responsibility. Adam was happy enough to oblige, which again just pissed off the hunter. 

With a gentle tug, Adam turned things around, pulling the hunter into his mind.

Frank gasped, caught completely off guard by the reversal. He was hit first by the vampire’s current feelings, and his most recent memories. He was surprised to find that the man really did care about his well being, and just how hard it had been for him to hold himself in check until now. Physically, Adam finally tugged the hunter’s hair out of it’s ponytail, and then gave it a tug to arch the man’s head back further. Frank obliged him, diving deeper into the vampire’s mind.

He hit the memories of when they’d first met, and how impressed Adam had been with him. Then he went back further, into his memories with Megan. He watched the relationship backwards, from its untimely end to the first meeting, arranged by Sarif. Adam had forgotten about that, and suddenly wondered if his boss had known what Megan had intended from the start.

Frank was trembling, and Adam gently pushed the hunter back, out of his mind and followed him back into his own. Exploring slowly, ready to stop if the hunter wanted him to, he dove into the other man’s memories. 

Most recent was, naturally, the first time Adam drank his blood. It was making a lot more sense to the hunter now, especially after seeing things from Adam’s point of view. The vampire pushed past that, and hit the fight was Namir. The memories brought up he cold fear in Frank again, but then he gasped in surprise as Adam… did something.

The vampire somehow faded the memory, making it seem more distant. Of course, this wasn’t at all what he was doing. What he was doing was making Frank’s present sharper and more clear, mainly by adding his own thoughts and impressions to the hunter’s as he continued thrusting against him. It made the man groan, trying to find more pressure. Adam smiled against his skin, and repeated the process with Namir’s implanted memories, and soon the hunter couldn’t focus on what the vampire was doing in his head. 

Frank couldn’t think at all, and Adam finally stopped drinking from him, carefully pulling back his consciousness from the hunter’s mind. He leaned up and kissed the hunter, who returned the gesture with fervor. Adam growled into the kiss possessively, thrusting harder, wishing he was inside the man beneath him and settling for tongue fucking his mouth instead. 

It wasn’t long that Frank came yet again, and Adam bit his neck as he orgasmed to ride out the hunter’s feeling, pushing himself over the edge as well. Frank collapsed under him, feeling weak and lightheaded.

“Damn blood loss…” the hunter muttered. Adam chuckled. 

“I didn’t take that much,” he said, which was true. He didn’t get much blood from sucking it around his fangs, although that tended to transfer the aphrodisiac more quickly than other methods. He settled mostly on top of the hunter, which made Frank scoff.

“Trying to suffocate me in my sleep?” he asked, trying vainly to move. Adam let him struggle a minute before wrapping his arms around the hunter and rolling over.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said drily. Frank glared at him, then sighed and settled on top of the vampire. Adam stroked his hair, which made him sigh as he fell asleep again. The vampire snorted, but closed his eyes. Well, at least now he had a couple less things to worry about.

Then he frowned as he thought of something. Cristian and Sarif were never going to let him hear the end of this one. With a sigh, Adam tried to go back to sleep himself. He was surprisingly successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coughs* ahem.
> 
> totally not the scene i had in my head when i started writing this nope nuh-uh.
> 
> Anywho, translations:
> 
> "What is it?"
> 
> "I'm going to kill them."
> 
> "Come in."
> 
> "Sit."
> 
> "Tell me if you need me to stop."
> 
> "You have no idea what you're agreeing to..."
> 
> "Is that what you really want?"
> 
> "Because, if it is, I can do that."
> 
> "What do you want to do now?"
> 
> "As you wish."
> 
> "No need to be so tense."
> 
> "This will probably hurt."
> 
> "Calm down, it's alright. You can change your mind."
> 
> "You're doing fine."
> 
> "Thank you, [sweetheart, little dear, treasure, etc.; no actual direct translation]
> 
> "God fucking-"

**Author's Note:**

> ha ha! i actually made it. this was from an otp prompt about a high level vampire needing a mate and somehow i thought it fit these two. hope you enjoy!


End file.
